


For Old Times' Sake

by catisacat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Evil Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, F/F, Rating May Change, talon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13055220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catisacat/pseuds/catisacat
Summary: Captured by Talon, Angela find out she's to be their newest science project.However, when she's brought to the medical center she finds herself face to face with a woman she thought she'd never see again.





	1. A Bird's New Cage

**Author's Note:**

> I've been slowly penning the outline for this fic pretty much since the first second someone shoved the idea of Moicy my way.
> 
> I'm always a sucker for a good old fashioned Evil AU and anything involving reunions with someone you had a crush on so this is pretty firmly in my alley. Expect some side ships to crop up later on as well.

“Angela! Are you ready yet?” Fareeha chirped, walking in to the medical center with a big bag tossed over her shoulder, “Today’s the day, my old friend!”

Looking up from her work, Angela was looking much less confident and much more haggard, “I suppose I’m ready. As best I can be.”

“Oh, don’t worry so much,” Fareeha said, ruffling her blonde ponytail with a wide smile, “This is going to be good for Overwatch’s reformation. Stopping a Talon attack? We’ll be heroes again, we can help even more people then.”

“You are… unrelentingly optimistic,” Angela replied, going back to adjusting the joints on her Valkyrie suit.

Waving away her concerns, Fareeha set her helmet on Angela’s desk, “Look, I know you get nervous about being in combat but you’re just going to be flying around with me. By the time it’s time for you to help on the ground, everything will be cleared out.”

“You mean people will be dead,” Angela flatly replied.

“Well… mostly the bad guys,” Fareeha nodded, “I don’t like that part either but it’s necessary.”

“They are still people, Fareeha,” Angela chastised, “People we’re going to kill.”

Picking up her helmet again, Fareeha shot her friend a cold look, “Do not insult my intelligence or compassion by acting like I don’t know they’re people. You think I like hurting people?”

“Could have fooled me with that act you came in here with.”

A long, cold silence fell between the two women. Angela not even looking up from her work, knowing Fareeha was glaring her down. Her proud eagle eyes staring into her soul, judging her. Fearing she’d crack, Angela refused to look back.

Things had been tense since Angela’d come back to Overwatch mostly because, well, she hadn’t wanted to. At least not like this.

Jack had told her she’d mostly be helping people, not being in combat again.

He’d lied to her.

Fareeha was consistently trying to make her friend feel at home again but found herself pushing against a cold and unfeeling wall she didn’t recognize anymore. A wall that seemed to be judging her at every turn. Fareeha was only reflecting Angela’s own behavior at her, at this point.

Eventually, Fareeha broke the silence with blunt statement, “I was excited that we will be removing threats to help protect people. We’re stopping a terrorist attack today. Saving civilians. I was merely happy we have the opportunity and resources to save so many.”

“I suppose,” was all Angela offered in return.

Fareeha’s hand balled into a fist at her side and she choked down some much more childish insults. In silence, she left the room. Maybe she could go and find McCree or Genji. Someone to be happy to save people with her.

Left to her own devices, literally, Angela sighed.

She didn’t know why she’d listened to Jack.

He wasn’t even the Jack she knew anymore, none of them were.

Eventually another Amari came to bring Angela out of her mental stewing, the older woman stooped as she walked over and put at hand on her shoulder, “Angela? It’s time to go.”

Nodding, Angela hefted up the large set of wings and latched them into place, following Ana out of the medical area and towards the hangar where the small plane and Fareeha waited for them.

\- - -

Fareeha was very quiet as they flew towards their destination.

They were stopping an attack at a concert in Brazil by local superstar, Lúcio Correia dos Santos.

He himself was unaware of the danger his fans were in. Angela didn’t agree with treating them almost like bait but according to their information it didn’t matter if the concert was going on or not. Talon had several targets they could easily switch to.

Oddly, the concert was the easiest thing to protect. Lúcio’s bodyguards were known for being incredibly protective of the fans.

Overwatch also had plenty of time to strike before they actually entered the concert area.

The higher ups were completely confident that they would be able to stop this.

When the door of the plane opened, Fareeha and Angela took off to survey the area. They found everything in place, both Overwatch and Talon.

Of course, Talon had figured out they were here.

Frantic battling began way below them, Angela flinching as Fareeha started blasting rockets at the stragglers from the Talon side.

“We're going in a bit closer, Angela,” Fareeha warned as she started descending, “I need a clear shot at their vehicles.”

“I understand,” was Angela's only answer.

Gunshot thundered up at them as they got closer and closer. Fareeha beginning to aim at the vehicles below but something stopping her.

“There's a kid down there!” Fareeha exclaimed, “Right in the blast zone from the fight, I'm going in to rescue him! Hover up here for safety!”

Listening, Angela watched Fareeha quickly dive down after a dark haired boy, looking about twelve and terrified as can be. Just in time, her armored body encapsulating him as a fireball was sent their way. Angela screamed as it engulfed them but when the smoke cleared she could see Fareeha getting up, coughing.

Her voice coming through Angela's earpiece asked for help, “I've got him, he is unharmed but I'm burned under my suit. I need you down here.”

“I'm on my way,” Angela replied as she started diving towards then.

Suddenly something engulfed her. Darkness, suffocating. Slamming violently to the ground, Fareeha’s yells far too far away. Cracking and snapping noises had deafened her as her Valkyrie suit’s wings were broken around her. Trying to push against her prison in the darkness, Angela found herself pressed tightly in a bag. Something heavy hiding it shut at the bottom and simultaneously keeping her from moving.

Her screams were muffled but she could feel someone strong grab the bag and start dragging her somewhere very quickly, eventually throwing her over their shoulder and running.

Fareeha’s voice only got further and further away until it faded into the distance. Culminating in being tossed into a car, their captor yelling with an authoritative voice, “I got a big one! Floor it!”

\- - -

At some point Angela had fallen asleep in her bag prison, neck twisted uncomfortably.

When she woke up again her world was still dark but she was out of the vehicle. Lying on something quasi-soft. She could hear people talking in the distance.

The woman's voice from earlier, an odd accent now that she really listened to it. It sounded like an odd mix of Canadian and French. Actually, that’s not all that odd. Other than that there was also an African man and a low male voice, generic American accent. Familiar, somehow.

Angela’s brain started putting pieces together. Talon. African? Akande Ogundimu. Doomfist. American? Familiar? It must be… it must be Gabriel. Gabriel Reyes. Reaper.

The woman’s voice was entirely foreign though, nothing she knew anything about. French could have been Amélie Lacroix but not French-Canadian. Perhaps that was an unknown member or merely a temporary alliance.

They were discussing her. ‘Angela, Angela, Angela.’ What was to be her fate?

It started sinking into her groggy mind. Talon had captured her.

Kicking at the bottom of the bag Angela still found no purchase, only crushing herself with her broken Valkyrie wings. A noise of pain escaped from her.

“She’s awake,” she heard who she thought was Akande say, “Take her out of the bag. We can restrain her if she runs, she’s not that strong.”

Angela heard the sound of boots clomping towards her followed by the feeling of her bag being opened. Her arm was gruffly grabbed and she was pulled out. Flinching back, the sudden brightness blinded her temporarily. Blinking down at the ground until she became accustomed to the light again.

Looking up, she found herself face to face with a very stern looking woman. Under better conditions, Angela would have found her… well, cute. Stern but cute. Her ghost white skin was covered in freckles, short dark brown hair framing her face. Piercing golden brown eyes.

“Bring her here, Miss Louve,” the voice said, making the odd woman nod.

A firm grip held her in place, turning her around and carting her towards the others.

Actually seeing them, her fears were confirmed. In front of her, only about twenty feet away, were Akande Ogundimu and Gabriel Reyes. The former looking pleased, the latter’s face hidden behind the mask as always. Indiscernible

“I’m really impressed with your work. Of all the Overwatch members you could have captured, Miss Ziegler here is among the most impressive.”

The woman spoke up, not exactly sounding as proud as Akande seemed to think she should feel, “Madeleine is fine. I am… glad you are happy with my work. You have the money as arranged?”

“And more,” Akande grinned, “I know you’re not a fan of our work but I do believe you’ll be a fan of the sizeable bonus I’ve allotted you. More than enough to fund your rescue for years and years to come.”

“Thank you,” Madeleine mumbled, all the authority gone from her voice, “But hopefully we will not be working together again.”

“I know, I know, a one time deal,” Akande nodded, “It’s why I’m so glad it was a very, very good deal. Would you like an escort to the exit?”

“Yes please, your compound is a bit… confusing,” Madeleine nodded.

“Amélie will be waiting outside the room,” Akande said, gesturing politely for her to go.

Madeleine gracefully walked towards the door, almost looking like a ballerina on point. Angela saw Amélie for only a second, politely greeting the woman, before they started walking down the hallway together.

“And now for you,” Akande said, turning his attention to Angela standing in front of him.

She’d never felt smaller and weaker in her life. Completely trapped, surrounded by enemies. The leader of them all standing in front of her and her? Weighed down by the broken wings of her Valkyrie suit.

“What are you going to do to me?” Angela asked, with an almost alarming calm that peaked Reaper’s curiosity as he slunk over to watch the conversation from a bit closer.

“Oh, I’m not going to be doing anything to you,” Akande said, “I am not in the business of doing the actual brainwashing myself. You’re going to be spending all your time in our medical department. First, as a subject. Second, as a doctor again. You’re a very bright woman and are a very welcome addition to our forces. I look forward to working with you.”

This was all so surreal, Angela felt like she was watching herself and Akande from a mile overhead. From way up there she watched Akande extend a hand and herself, by dazed muscle memory alone, reach out as well and dumbly shake his hand.

A bag was handed to her by Reaper. Opening it revealed a simply white dress, looking almost more like an oversized shirt than anything. Gesturing back towards a bathroom, Angela was prompted to change.

She did so. It was honestly a relief to get out of the destroyed Valkyrie suit, falling off her like the weight of the world. However, it only made her feel more helpless.

Walking back out to the two men, Akande sounded miles away as he gestured for Reaper to come forward, “Gabriel, would you show Angela to the medical bay?”

“Sure,” was Reaper’s only answer as he gestured for her to follow and started leading her down many, many twisting hallways.

There were absolutely no windows. Some terrible part of her wondered if they were underground. Art hung on the walls, labelled. Most of it was abstract, stark and unnaturally beautiful. Everything from the doors to the walls to the art was black, white and red.

Slowly but surely Angela started reentering her own body as things started sinking in. Why was she allowing herself to complacently be led around a terrorist compound? What was wrong with her?

Seeing the looming red cross glowing over another of the doors made her lizard mind go wild. Run! Run!! Run!!!

Stumbling frantically, Angela made a break for it. She only made it about twenty feet before she was recaptured with a loud grunt of irritation as Reaper grabbed her. Fighting against him, Angela felt a shoulder in her gut, not hard, as she was thrown over it. He held her legs tightly in place as she kicked at him and started screaming in German at him.

It only lasted for a second though, before Angela went limp. Giving up. She was still so tired and sore from being in the bag for so long.

With a kick, he flew open the door. Disturbing the sole occupant of the medbay. Stomping in, he spoke to them, “Madeleine was successful, we have a new pet project for you.”

“Well, let me see her then,” a very, very familiar voice said.

Angela’s mind tripped all over itself trying to place it, figuring it out just in time. As Reaper moved to set her back on her own two feet she stared blankly at her old friend. Dumbly stumbling out, “M-Moira?”

There was a clattering as Moira dropped the pen she’d been holding in shock, “Angela?”


	2. March 22nd

“It’s like a big damn class reunion,” Reaper grumbled out.

Moira was clearly trying to compose herself, “This is… one impressive catch. Did you do this, Gabriel?”

“Reaper,” he insisted, “And no. She’s Madeleine Louve’s handiwork.”

“Ah yes, my favorite wolf themed lunatic,” Moira nodded, standing to examine Angela closer. Blue eyes silently begged for help as one long nail tilted her chin upwards towards her own mismatched ones. “That will be all, Gabriel. Thank you.”

Sighing, Reaper gave up correcting her this time. He held up a device, what appeared to be a thin choker, “One more thing.”

Watching, Angela tried not to show weakness as Reaper reached around her and clicked it in place. Cold metal nail looping under it and testing it to make sure it was going to fall off.

A gruff pat on Moira’s shoulder heralded his leave, the slam of the door his final goodbye.

Alone with Moira, Angela’s voice quivered, “Moira… please…”

“Please is a dreadfully vague request, Angela.”

Angela shivered hearing her own name on once familiar lips. Austere as always, never as intimidating as it was now. Her gaze no longer one of a friend.

“Help me, Moira,” Angela specified, weakly raising a hand to Moira. Unsure of what she was reaching for.

Gently pushing the hand away, Moira circled her, “Again with the lack of direction.”

“Moira, get me out of here,” Angela’s voice cracked, “Please, don’t let them keep me here. Talon will kill me or… or worse.”

Looking around the lab, Angela could clearly see the worse. Diagrams of Moira’s experiments were tacked to a large corkboard. Her tools were scattered around, making normal surgical tools look sinister and foreign to Angela.

“I’m afraid that’s out of my hands,” Moira said, a finger of said hand tracing the top of the collar Reaper had placed on her, “As long as this is on your neck, you’re not going anywhere. I mean, unless you’re not married to the idea of keeping your head.”

“What?” Angela asked, too dazed to think about it critically, “What is…”

“Poor girl have they shaken you daft?” Moira asked, “It’s an explosive collar. Not a big explosion but big enough. To get rid of… you know.”

Moira gestured to Angela’s head in general.

Panicking, Angela’s hands clawed the air in front of it as reality started seeping in, “What sets it off?! Just taking it off?! Is it sensitive?!”

“Calm yourself,” Moira said, gently grabbing Angela’s hands in a vague fear that she’d break her own neck to rip it off, “They’re very, very stable. Only extreme damage to it will cause it to detonate. Don’t go wild trying to take it off and you’ll be fine.”

“What… what am I going to do?” Angela asked, grabbing Moira’s sleeve.

Letting her cling, Moira just stared steadily at her, “It’s a bit less that and a little more what I’m going to do. You don’t have much say in this.”

“Do you though?” Angela asked, “Moira, please, can you stop this?”

“This is my job,” Moira replied, pulling away from Angela’s grasp and picking up a clipboard, “My say in this is… very limited. I try not to push Akande. We’re on very good terms, I’d like to keep it that way.”

“For your own safety?” Angela asked.

“You have many questions tonight, don’t you? But yes. I came here willingly, unlike yourself, but I know leaving is a whole other animal. One with teeth and nails that could tear me apart.”

“Is there anything you can do to help me?” Angela asked, letting Moira begin what seemed to be a routine physical. She was quiet for a long minute before asking another question, “Do you even want to help me?”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been friends, Angela.”

“Moira… please… for old times’ sake. Don’t let them hurt me.”

Trying to ignore the tears beginning to streaming down Angela’s face, Moira sloppily noted Angela’s medical history from memory. Always had a knack for that. Memorizing every patient’s files, Angela’s a bit easy considering it was seen more frequently seen by herself. Can’t exactly be your own doctor, can you?

Brought out of her clinical thoughts, Angela had even more questions still, “Do you want to experiment on me? Is this what you want?”

Sighing, Moira put the clipboard down, “I’d rather be disconnected from my subjects. Don’t like strings tying my experiments to me.”

An opening. Moira nearly leapt back in surprise as Angela lunged at her. Grabbing her bony hands in her own small ones, “Look, I know your hands are tied. All but literally. But please, whatever power you have… please, please, help me.”

“You’re serving me a tall order,” Moira replied, averting her eyes, “You’re asking for a planet when I can barely give you moon.”

“March twenty-second,” Angela said, so quiet you almost couldn’t hear.

“Speak up, you know I hate mumbling.”

Looking up, Angela made firm eye contact, “March twenty-second.”

\- - -

March Twenty-second. Many, many years ago. Shortly after midnight,

Moira’s screams had echoed the halls of the abandoned medbay.

The entire watchpoint was nearly empty, which had been Moira’s intent. Just a few people, probably dead asleep on the other side of the base.

She hadn’t wanted anyone to interfere, be left alone to work. She knew what she was doing was controversial and she didn’t want to hear anything about it. But now as agonizing pain racked her right arm, bright purple coiling up it to her shoulder, she screamed for someone, anyone to help her.

It was pointless. No one would be here. So this is it? This is how Moira O’Deorain dies? Screaming alone in agony, failed experiment eating her alive?

Her vision a blur, she uselessly tried to read her papers. See what she had done wrong. Stop this.

Another series of stabbing pains tore up her arm and another nightmarish scream pierced the cold night air. Sharp tears started to slide down her face, landing on her research and making it even harder to read.

This was real, she was going to die.

Unable to hear anything but her own screams, she wasn’t aware that she was no longer alone until her papers were ripped out of her hand.

Her blurry angel was here. Angela was speed reading the papers with a controlled frenzy. Moira watched, trying to quiet her screams to find herself raspily begging, “Angela… please…”

Her pleas were unnecessary. Angela had never been more focused on anything in her entire life.

It seemed like agonizing eons to Moira but in no time Angela was mixing chemicals and pulling them up into a syringe. Grabbing Moira’s twisted purple arm and expertly finding a vein.

Knowing this was going to either work or not, Moira allowed herself to collapse. Nearly knocking Angela over as she clung tightly to her to not go crashing to the ground. With difficulty, Angela had managed to drag Moira to the examining table.

Resting Moira’s head on her lap, Angela had run a hand through the short red hair mumbling quiet placations to her pained friend.

It took nearly an hour for the pain to subside completely.

When it was gone, Angela had helped carry Moira back to her room.

Fearful of it flaring up again, Angela had fallen asleep crushed against Moira’s side.

\- - -

Back in the Talon lab, Angela stared intently at Moira.

Angela knew she was unable to help herself, clad only in a simple white dress and the explosive collar. But Moira was standing right there and she could help. Tall, astute, powerful. Her lab coat an odd sort of armor, not literal but figurative.

“This is a very difficult position you’re putting me in,” Moira replied.

Angela was unrelenting, her persistence taking a more flattering turn, “I know you, Moira. Or knew you, at least. Nothing could stop you then and I doubt anything can now. If anyone could help me, you could.”

“There isn’t much I can do…” Moira said, failing to resist Angela interlocking their fingers.

“Nonsense, there’s nothing you can’t do,” Angela said, twisting her head to reinforce the reluctant eye contact, “You’ve always been a remarkable woman. I admired you then and I don’t doubt you could easily make me admire you again. Even just looking at you it’s hard not be charmed. Striking, as always.”

Moira was dead silent, trying not to smile. Of course the damned thing had hit every point, a master flatterer. This was how the woman had always gotten them those research grants, wasn’t it?

Sighing heavily, Moira’s chest heaved dramatically, “Fine. You win. I’ll protect you.”

Bracing for it, Moira felt Angela slam against her. Tightly hugging her around the waist, burying her face in Moira’s non-existent chest. Angela’s gratitude was muffled by the thick fabric of the lab coat but she refused to stop crushing herself against her savior.

Reluctantly, Moira put a hand on her back with a few curt pats, “I need you to understand that there are limits to my power. Very strict ones.”

“I understand,” Angela nodded, turning her head but still refusing to let go, “But surely you can protect me to some degree? Do you know what they want to do with me?”

“You… you know what became of Amélie Lacroix, yes?”

Angela’s mouth became a thin line, “Talon wants to brainwash me.”

“Yes. But you have one saving grace in this.”

“And that is?”

“I am the one tasked with doing it.”

Her lips coiled up into a smile again, Angela nearly delirious with joy, “You’re not going to do it.”

“I’m not,” Moira replied, “But you? You are going to have a play a part you’re not going to like.”

Angela nodded, slowly against Moira’s chest, “They’re going to make me do things. Bad things.”

“Yes. If it makes you feel better, you won’t be doing the bad things yourself probably. But you’re certainly going to be enabling them. Unless they want you to start helping me and if so… prepare to throw your ethics card away.”

“Can’t you…” Angela tried to angle.

“I can do it for you to a point but if they want to see you work, you have to work.”

“I will… do what I have to do,” Angela promised.

“Good because your head won’t be the only one on the chopping block if you reveal yourself as not actually brainwashed. I don’t know what they’d do to me and honestly? I do not relish the idea of finding out.”

“What will I have to do? To convince them?”

“You’re going to have to perfectly obey everything they say,” Moira said, listing the points off on her long, long fingers, “You’re going to need to know Talon’s rulebook down to the last letter, never questioning. Regarding even individual members, you must know everything about the high ranking ones. How to gain their favor, what will anger them.”

“Oh! Gabriel hates when you don’t use coasters,” Angela piped up, borderline cheerily.

“On a grander scale but yes, things like that.”

“I can do this,” Angela said, more to herself than Moira. Letting go and stepping back. Even as she looked down to her shaking hands she knew she had to. For her own survival and, oddly enough, for Moira’s as well.

“Do not undersell yourself on how difficult this will be,” Moira said, gesturing for Angela to follow her, “But for now we cannot do much. Let me help you get situated.”

Their footsteps were loud in the large, empty medbay. Most of it was wide open, a standard laboratory, filled with intimidating looking devices. However, in the back there were a few glass prisons. For lack of a better term. Moira was leading her right to them.

Fishing into her pocket, Moira pulled out a keycard and slid it. Clear door of the middle one sliding open as Moira gestured inside, “This will be your home. For now.”

Looking at the plain white room, devoid of anything but a bed, a sink, a toilet, Angela’s heart fell. Stepping inside, she slowly realized exactly how cold this place was. Grabbing the blanket on the bed and testing it she found it heavy enough, hopefully able to keep her warm.

Outside, Moira watched Angela desolatedly survey her new home. Sighing, she tried her hand at being comforting, “As I said, my dear. For now. Widowmaker had to stay here too for a while. If you play your part right, you’ll be able to have the liberties she has. Her room is among the nicest in Talon, the finest French decor.”

“How long was she here?” Angela said, gesturing at the immaculate cell.

“A couple months,” Moira answered, “Not too long.”

Her heart fell further, down into her stomach, “I don’t want to stay here, all alone. There’s not even any other prisoners right now. What if someone comes in? Wants to hurt me?”

“You seem to be laboring under the misconception that everyone here is an inhuman beast who wishes to eat you alive. There are no prowlers here, looking to do unspeakable things to you. Besides, my room is in the lab. Akande had it built just for me, an old favor repayed.”

Moira pointed at a door which, upon closer inspection, had her name emblazoned on a golden plaque. Moira O’Deorain.

“Could I just stay in there with you?” Angela asked.

“My god, is there an end to your questions?” Moira replied, getting a bit irritated with the third degree, “No, Akande will be in and out for the first day. He’s a hands-on boss.”

“But what about after the first day?”

“He’ll leave us completely be.”

“What about then?”

Groaning, Moira pushed at her temples, “Go to bed, Angela.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just nervous, I ask questions when I’m nervous” Angela held her hands up.

Sliding the card again, the glass door closed in front of Moira. Her voice coming through the wall of holes easily, “Goodnight, Angela. Or, at least, as good as it can be.”

Nodding, Angela held a hand up against the class, “Goodnight, Moira. Thank you.”

With a curt nod, Moira turned and walked towards her room. Stopping only to flick the lights off, leaving Angela only illuminated by a few devices which must be left on.

Resigned, Angela turned around and crawled into her new bed. Stiff, uncomfortable. But warm enough.


	3. Do As I Say, Not As I Do

Angela hadn't slept that bad since the last time she tried to sleep on a battlefield.

And what a weird, vivid nightmare.

At least it was over.

Rolling over, Angela decided she'd sleep in today. She could afford it. It's not like Overwatch will fall to pieces if just one of their doctors came in a little bit late.

Well, these were at least the thoughts Angela would have had if rolling over hadn't dumped her off of the small prison bed and onto the cold holding cell floor. Dazed and confused she looked around as reality seeped back in.

She, Angela Ziegler, was a Talon prisoner at the mercy of her former coworker Moira O’Deorain.

Today was going to be her first day in captivity.

Not knowing what else to do, Angela climbed up into her bed again. Flipping over to lay on her back and stare up at the prison ceiling as she contemplated what she was going to do.

Obviously, she had to play their game for now. She had an ally in Moira and the woman was really sticking her neck out by helping her. It would be all to easy for the woman to say fuck it and turn Angela into a four armed, six eyed, god doctor who obeys Talon’s every demand. But she wasn't.

Could she ever be free again? Moira was keeping her safe here but is that all she'll ever be again? Just safe but a prisoner nonetheless?

Hearing a door open and slow, calm footsteps Angela closed her eyes.

She wasn't entirely sure why she did that. Just lying there listening to the cell door unlock as Moira entered with her heart racing for indescribable reasons. A long, bony hand gently grabbing her shoulder and jostle her slightly, “Rise and shine, my little mockingbird.”

A sight groan as Angela peeked an eye open, “Mockingbird?”

“You've always been a bird and now you're going to need to learn how to imitate others. Today I start teaching you how to behave like a proper science experiment.”

Gazing up at her sadly, Angela pouted, “Can I have breakfast first?”

Moira sighed but chuckled, “Spoiled to the core. However, in luck. It will be arriving in a couple minutes. Get up.”

Complying, Angela slid out of the bed. Chilly air hitting her hard and making her want to crawl back into the bed. Shivering, Angela lamented the thin white dress.

“Can I have something warmer?” Angela asked, “Surely you have an old sweater you wouldn't miss?”

“Unfortunately, discomfort us something you should probably get used to. You'll be expected not to care about extraneous things like comfort or luxury. Which are, well, your two favorite things. Nothing will be to your liking but you'll simply have to ignore it. You can't react.”

There was a knock at the door, Moira shushing Angela as she slunk over to answer it. Returning with two plates. One had a delicious array of waffles with a side of eggs and sausage. The other had what could best be described as “sad oatmeal.”

Seeing them on the table, Moira slid into her seat. Gesturing for Angela to join her, “Bon appetit.”

Trying not to cringe, Angela supposed this was better than it could be. Being allowed to sit at the table like an equal instead of a prisoner. But it truly tasted just as bad as it looked. Each bite was disgusting.

Angela forced herself not to make a face of disgust or look longingly at Moira's much more tasty looking breakfast. Barely eating a few bites, just enough to tide her over, before stopping to politely put her hands on her lap.

It took Moira a similarly short period of time to finish her breakfast but that is simply how she is.

A sliding noise broke the silence as Moira pushed the mostly full plate over to Angela.

Looking at it incredulously, Angela looked up at her, “But you ate only half a waffle, that's not enough.

“You've known me long enough to know I don't do meals,” Moira replied, tapping a finger tip on the plate, “Small snacks throughout the day at most. If you don't eat it, it's just going in the trash.”

“Thank you, Moira,” Angela said, trying to not have too much waffle lust evident on her face. But it was too obvious as she dug in with aggressive gusto. By the time she was done, her face was covered in syrup and chunks of meat and egg.

Looking rather like a pig, Moira handed her a napkin.

Taking it and cleaning her face revealed her cheeks bright red, “Sorry, I, uhh, got a little carried away, didn't I?”

“A touch but considering you haven't eaten in potentially twenty four hours.”

“I haven't,” Angela admitted, “I was nervous about the last mission for no real reason. Although, considering my current circumstances, it turns out that I was very right to be worried.”

“Perhaps a premonition,” Moira said, standing up and gesturing for Angela to follow.

As she followed after her, Angela noted that Moira's long nails were gone along with the gauntlets she'd been wearing yesterday. Part of her battle gear? How impractical. But then again, Talon was always known for being wildly impractical but stylish. Had Moira been expecting the new prisoners to fight her?

The second room of the lab was quite similar to the first but had a wide open area in the middle. Angela could see the ghosts of scorch marks and nearly visible gashes. A testing area, for Moira's creations.

“Alright, today marks the first day of your Talon fake-brainwashing lessons. We have a limited amount of time to do this. Akande will only leave us alone for so long and I'd rather not do anything drastic.”

“And by that you mean?” Angela asked, positioning herself in the center of the circle.

Pulling over a chair, Moira sat down, “I mean if you fail, I'll have to actually go through with it. Wipe your slate to keep mine from being cracked in half.”

Angela twisted her hands as she went to grab a chair of her own, “The stakes are high then…”

“No, no chair. We're touching upon our first lesson. Poise.”

“Poise? I've been charming higher ups since I was sixteen. I like to think I have that covered.”

“Not in the way Talon will expect from you. You slouch and stomp around so badly one would almost think Winston had snuck in here. As a Talon recruit, you must move like a perfect robot at all times.”

Straightening up almost comically so with her chest puffed up, Angela arms tucked behind her back. Feet brought together at the heel, slightly outward. Pointing her nose to the sky with a condescending look down at Moira.

After a second of confusion, Moira’s face turned into a playful sneer, “Me. You’re being me. I’m out here, trying to save you and you’re mocking me.”

Cheeks puffing up as barely concealed laughter, Angela nodded as she held herself in place.

Sighing, Moira pushed herself up and started adjusting Angela’s posture manually, “You’re a brat. You know this, right?”

Nodding against Moira’s hand as she tried to put her head down, Angela smiled a little, “I just can’t help myself.”

“Well, as amusing as I find it, you’re going to need to learn to tamp that down. You can’t be walking around teasing people all willy nilly here. A dead giveaway and I mean it when I say ‘dead.’ Okay, maybe I don’t quite mean that. But brain dead at the very least.”

Letting go, Moira stepped back and examined Angela’s new posture. Upright but relaxed enough that Angela didn’t look like a malfunctioning Omnic. Nodding, Moira slowly walked back to a table and picked up a glass of water. Or at least Angela hoped it was water.

“Surely you don’t mean to-” Angela started before the large, heavy glass was indeed placed on her head.

“Now walk,” Moira insisted, “And please, refrain from breaking all my glasses. I’d rather not have to move onto the beakers.”

“Can’t we just use a book? In the movies they always use a book for this.”

“High stakes, just like the situation at hand. Walk.”

Clumsily, Angela’s first step nearly sent the glass falling to the ground. By the third or fifth step she’d gotten the hang of it but Moira was only laughing, “You look like a drunken bird. Head wobbling around.”

“If it works, it works. I will concern myself with style points at a later time.”

“The whole point of this was style points.”

“Quiet! You’ll make me drop it.”

Shaking her head, Moira pushed at her temple with a long finger, “You’re missing the point.”

Turning to argue just a touch too quickly, the glass toppled and soaked Angela from the waist up. With a shriek, she tried to brush off water to no avail while the glasses clunked to the floor. Plastic. Of course it was.

It wasn’t long before Angela realized exactly the ramifications of dumping a large glass of water over her plain white dress. Clinging firmly against her, hiding little. Only by the grace of her bra was she anything that resembled decent. Moira’s eyes grew wide before politely looking away but a snicker on her lips nonetheless as Angela’s hands wetly slapped at her own chest to cover it.

“You did that on purpose!” Angela accused, pointing with one occupied hand.

Already up and digging in a closet, Moira pulled out a too long lab coat and tried to make her way over to Angela without looking. Laughing all the way, “Sorry, forgot that little tidbit about getting white fabric wet.”

Trying not to laugh herself, Angela tried to grab the lab coat which Moira was currently shoving in the general vicinity of her face, “Your own personal white t-shirt contest, for shame.”

As the lab coat was handed over, Moira put a hand over her eyes, “Unless I’m mistaken, the point is to stare in such revelry. If you’ll notice I’m averting my eyes. Politely. Now, tell me when you’ve got it on.”

Pulling it over her shoulders, Angela couldn’t help but stop the mischievous look from creeping onto her face, “Alright, I’m decent.”

“Now was that so-” Moira started, bringing her hand down only to reveal that Angela was still holding the lab coat wide open. Playfully bouncing from side to side with a wink. Face red as her hair as she grabbed the lapels of the coat and pulled it shut, buttoning it for Angela herself, “You little pervert. What if someone had walked in? Would have been rather hard to explain to Akande why you’re dancing around half-naked and soaked.”

“Think of it as part of my ‘thank you’ for helping me,” Angela stuck out her tongue.

Angela couldn’t help but notice that Moira was still holding her closer than usual, hand on her waist.

Her turn to blush a little as Moira grabbed her chin and made her look up at her far too serious expression, “This is serious though, you know? Flirt and play in private if you will but you cannot do that around the others.”

“I know,” Angela mumbled, reaching out to grab onto Moira’s other sleeve, “This is just… how I’m dealing with this.”

“As long as you’re taking it seriously, somewhere deep down. Promise me that, at least.”

Angela nodded, “I am, I am.”

Tugging at the lab coat, Moira kept her serious look, “Keep in mind one day you’ll be wearing one of these, assisting me in things you find deplorable.”

“I know,” Angela replied, a bit annoyed now, “Just… just let me at least have a little fun when it’s just the two of us.”

Angela hated the look of utter pity on Moira’s face as she let go and curled a long finger to follow her again, “Alright, just so long as you understand. Perhaps I can turn the next part of your testing into a game.”

A whiteboard at the end of the room and a desk next to it. Grabbing the chair and pulling it around to the front of the whiteboard, Moira drew a cross. Writing on one side “right” and the side “wrong.”

Tossing a small handbook and a notebook to Angela, Moira sat on the desk, “Read through those and I’ll quiz you on them. The handbook is Talon policy, the notebook is important things to note about the people you’ll interact with most. I want you to at least get more right than wrong answers today although I don’t expect perfection.”

“Am I in elementary school?” Angela replied, “This isn’t a game, it’s a pop quiz that I had no time to study for.”

“I’m sorry learning vital information to keep yourself from getting brainwashed is a chore to you.”

Angela opened the book and looked at the dreadfully boring text inside for a second before a smile crossed her face again, “How about we make it more interesting then?”

“I’m listening…” Moira replied, looking skeptical.

“A wager,” Angela tapped excitedly on the cover of the handbook.

Moira couldn’t say no to a wager. She never could. Back in the golden days of Overwatch, Angela had seen Moira honor many a dicey bet as well as ensuring that she get hers as well. 

Not to mention Blackwatch had always been especially infamous for their high stakes wagers, more than once the members of the main branch would look out the window to see something ridiculous. McCree streaking by completely naked, Gabriel walking around in a bright pink princess dress for a week, Genji balancing on the highest tower for twelve hours straight, Moira herself having to go around and smooch each and every member of Overwatch on the cheek.

“What kind of wager?” Moira asked, crossing her arms but very clearly interested, “Keeping in mind you cannot leave my laboratory.”

Thinking, Angela tapped her chin before a bright smile lit up her face, “If I win, I sleep in your room instead of the prison! I hate it in there. It’s cold and uncomfortable.”

Smirking, Moira nodded, “Fine. If I win, you reorder my files. All of them.”

Her jaw dropping, “But your paperwork-”

“Is always a mess, I know,” Moira replied, “But your wager is hefty too. Shall we?”

Extending a hand, Angela grabbed it and shook it firmly, “Fine! You’re on. I am very confident in my speed reading and near photographic memory.”

“Let’s hope it treats you well.”

While Angela whipped through the books, Moira quickly started writing up some questions. Halfway through lunch arriving. Same as with breakfast, Moira ate barely half the sandwich before passing the rest to Angela.

“Done!” Angela chirped, slamming it shut and patting the cover, “You're going down, O'Deorain.”

“Best of luck, Ziegler. You'll need it.”

\- - -

Moira certainly hadn't pulled any punches when she made her test but to her surprise Angela easily answered nearly all of them correctly.

Well, shit. Moira wasn't one to not honor a bet.

Sighing, Moira closed her book, “Alright, alright, you win.”

Pumping her fist in the air, Angela was jubilant, “Ha! Photographic memory wins again!!”

Chuckling, Moira leaned forward, “Enjoy your little victory because there's one final lesson for today. A short one but a very important one.”

Angela's celebrations were cut short, cautiously asking, “Being?”

“Obedience,” Moira stood up, walking over towards Angela, “Perfect, unwavering obedience.”

Looking up at Moira looking over her, Angela felt uncertain, “Of… of course…”

A finger on her forehead, “Drop and give me twenty.”

“What?!”

“Did I stutter?”

Despite a somewhat dirty look, Angela complied. With some difficulty, completing the task. However halfway through Moira spoke up.

“Lost count. Restart.”

“Moira!” Angela’s arms jittered under her, “I'm not in great shape!”

“These tasks aren't meant to be pleasant, it's to get you acclimated to being ordered around.”

Sighing, Angela did it. Twenty more pushups. Hopping around like a bunny rabbit, arms up and everything. Commanded to climb on the table, patting her head and running her stomach, proclaiming Moira the better doctor.

And Moira? Moira was absolutely giddy about this. Laughing as she came up with her next order, “Now, bark like a dog.”

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Angela gave a half hearted bark.

“No, no, more like a yappy little thing. You're a chihuahua, not a guard dog.”

Irritated, Angela put her hands on her hips, “You're enjoying this too much. Way too much. You're getting off on this, aren't you?”

Hand over her mouth, Moira was clearly laughing, “No, just enjoying the circus being in town.”

“Please, be an adult about this?” Angela rolled her eyes.

“What, an adult can’t enjoy the circus?”

“They’re not going to ask me to do things like this.”

Sobering up, Moira replied, “No, Angela. They’re going to ask you to do much worse. Would you rather I pull in a human test subject and have you get to work?”

“I’m feeling rather like a human test subject myself right now.”

Annoyed, Moira glared as she walked over, “ I’m saving you from that, you know. A little appreciation would be, well, appreciated.”

“Fine, fine,” Angela sighed, “Give me your worst.”

“Alright, just one more then we’ll call it a day, yeah?” quick as a whip, Moira was back to playful as she tapped her lips with a cheeky grin, “Kiss me.”

Immediately flustered, Angela seemed to puff up like a shocked bird.

But before Moira could laugh it off, Angela was grabbing her angular jaw and pulling her down into a kiss. Lips only centimeters from each other before Moira could get her hands up and on Angela’s shoulders, pushing her lightly away.

Glee evident in her voice, Moira sang, “Oh, Angela! I was kidding! My, you’re an eager little bird aren’t you? Hot for teacher?”

Angela’s expression dropped from surprised to angry in a heartbeat, face growing red and she smacked Moira in the chest, “You! Are! Insufferable!”

Not letting up, Moira draped an arm over Angela’s shoulders as she led her out of the testing area and back into the main lab, “Flattered, really. Had no idea how quick you’d be to throw yourself at me. Just wanted to get a rise out of you. Good to know.”

“Why’d you stop me then, if you’re so delighted by this information?” Angela crossed her arms.

“Not into ordering people to kiss me. Shocking, I know. Maybe I wouldn’t stop you otherwise, though,” Moira winked as there was a knocking at the door. Nudging Angela to hide, Moira answered it. Dinner. Chicken and broccoli, plenty of cheese.

For the third time today, Angela found herself being slid a mostly uneated meal to replace her own apparently customary gruel.

\- - -

It was very hard to tell what time it was without looking at a clock in the lab. Angela knew little about the place she was held but it really did seem like they were underground. She missed sunlight already.

But as Moira packed up the stuff she’d been having Angela review after a brief shower, she yawned, “It’s getting late. Time to turn in.”

Remembering their wager from earlier, Angela perked up at the idea of curling up in a nice, warm bed tonight, “Don’t forget that I won the bet, Moira! Your room, not the prison.”

“Of course,” Moira said, offering no resistance as she walked towards the door with the golden nameplate, “You know I don’t back out on bets.”

Entering, Angela found the room lovely. Dark wood and low lighting, a large canopy bed in the center of the back. All the furniture was the same gorgeous wood, from the side tables to the shelved desk with Moira’s personal computer on it.

The decor was very Celtic in design, Moira missing home supposedly.

But mostly, Angela was preoccupied with the bed. Shedding the lab coat she’d never taken off before happily running and diving on it. Soft. Incredibly soft.

As she rolled around like a happy labrador, something caught her eye though.

Stopping just enough to sneakily peek over the thick comforter, she watched Moira begin to shed her many layers with her back to Angela. Lab coat down to her underwear, revealing Moira’s long, bony torso lit inticingly by the soft light. As she slowly started sliding said underwear off, Angela realized she absolutely shouldn’t be watching his. Covering her eyes, only giving Moira privacy for the bra and underwear to drop to the ground.

A minute later, something soft and light landed on Angela’s chest. Looking down, she found herself looking at a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Pajamas.

Looking up at Moira, dressed in the same, Angela was a bit surprised. Realizing she’d never actually seen Moira out of very formal wear. Even that night when she’d carried her injured friend to her room, slept next to her, she’d been in a button up and slacks.

To some odd endearment, Angela realized what the bright red shirt said. “3rd Annual Talon Games. Red team.” Those words surrounding a little cartoon owl that looked rather like Reaper’s mask.

Looking down at the shirt on her lap, she unfolded it to read the words “Cutie π”.

“You going to admire that shirt or put it on? It’s a witty one, I know, but I’d like to get to sleep.”

As Moira said that it dawned on her, “Wait, you’re sleeping in here too?”

“Exactly where else did you think I was going to sleep? The prison? The bet was for you to sleep in here, nothing said about me sleeping in subpar conditions.”

Flustered, Angela slid off the bed to get changed, “Alright, look away.”

“You didn’t,” Moira accused.

Looking back, Angela found Moira smiling knowingly at her.

Blushing, Angela started pulling the white dress over her head with her back turned to Moira, “I didn’t watch you take your underwear off though.”

Watching up until that moment, Moira closed her eyes with another grin, “That’s fair.”


	4. Birds and Spiders

There wasn’t a single pair of lips in the Talon Headquarters that hadn’t had the name “Angela Ziegler” fall from them.

Not a soul in Talon was disinterested in the organizations newest acquire. Hell, they would get excited for any Overwatch captures but someone so high up? Angela freakin’ Ziegler? Head doctor? Oh, they were in a tizzy.

Akande and Reaper had tried to quell some of the gossip to no avail. You can’t stop words.

It didn’t help that they themselves were being bombarded by information, even from the ones they considered friends. And those “friends”, they believed were also the ones circulating the most rumors and information about this.

Also by those “friends”? They mean Sombra. It’s Sombra.

“Akande~” Sombra sang out, her footsteps quiet and quick as she tried to keep up with his long strides, “How’s my favorite boss doing?”

“You want to know more about the Ziegler situation,” Akande said, wondering if he should just try to outpace the small woman.

“And you, my very cool friend, totally wanna tell me all about it right? Gotta get boring only gossiping with Gabe. I’ll even do these fun overreactions like ‘OMG!!’ and ‘no way!!’ with silly faces.”

“As tempting as your bribe is, I’d like you to drop the subject. Also, I’m relatively sure you’re the one spreading the rumors that keep tickling at my ears. Like the one claiming Moira has given Miss Ziegler an extra set of arms. Or the one about the, ehm, breast job. Really, Sombra?”

“Oh come on! It gets boring around here sometimes and this is something JUICY that you’re absolutely not letting anyone know about!” Sombra complained, trotting to tug at Akande’s arm, “C’mon, give us something!”

“This is a matter for Moira alone, for now. You know Miss Ziegler won’t be hidden away in that laboratory forever. Widowmaker wasn’t.”

“Yeah but that took like twelve years!”

“It was two weeks and you weren’t even with us yet.”

Sombra anguished, “Now I have to wait! I’m not a great waiter, Akande. I get bored.”

“And start making up lies?” Akande tried not to chuckle.

“Yes! Boatloads! You haven’t even heard the rumor I started about the cloning process! Or the three sets of eyes! Or the permanent hovering!”

Ruffling her hair, Akande left her at the door, “Sombra, do both yourself and I a favor. Go to your room and take a week off. Play video games with Widowmaker. Maybe you’ll even beat her one of these times.”

“No I won’t! She’s unbeatable! Stupid slow heartbeat makes me too decisive and sharp with games! It’s like trying to beat a robot!”

Ignoring her protest, the heavy door of Akande’s office shut in the face. The click telling her he’d used the manual lock. Damn. C’mon, man, give her something. Anything!

Giving up, Sombra slunk off to go and see if Widowmaker had been any more successful than she had.

\- - -

On the other side of the headquarters another higher up was trying to ignore the woman hanging onto him.

It wasn’t unusual for Widowmaker to hook an arm around his but today Reaper rather felt like the woman was trying to entrap him. Her question subtle but not subtle enough, “Have you heard anything interesting lately?”

“You’re not fooling me,” Reaper grumbled at her, “I know what you’re asking about.”

“Can you not tell me, at least?” Widowmaker asked, batting her big yellow eyes at him, “You know you can trust me.”

“I know I can trust you to give in to Sombra’s questioning,” Reaper countered, “And once Sombra knows, all of Talon knows. Why you’ve chosen her as your friend, I’ll never understand.”

“Opposites attract?” Widowmaker offered.

“Couldn’t you have picked a less nosy opposite?”

“No,” she smirked.

“Insolent,” Reaper growled, “Maybe I can see why you’re friends.”

“We are friends as well, oui? Friends tell friends things.”

Tugging his arm out of hers, he shook his head, “Damn kids…”

Widowmaker only laughed.

Maybe Sombra had more luck with Akande.

\- - -

Seamlessly, Widowmaker and Sombra converged in the dark hallway.

Sombra looping an arm around Widowmaker’s as she nuzzled into her shoulder, “Any luck with Gabe? I’m gonna guess no.”

“You would be correct,” Widowmaker nodded, “Shut like a steel trap. Given you aren’t bombarding me with seemingly impossible gossip, I doubt you got anything out of Akande either.”

“Nah, totes shut me out,” Sombra lamented, “Just a couple of old men who never learned that sharing is caring.”

“Perhaps… we should find out for ourselves.”

A sly peek down showed her that Sombra was positively glistening up at her.

“Ohhh, ohhhhh,” Sombra cooed, kissing Widowmaker on the arm, “My favorite little spider, sat down beside her? Are you proposing what I think you’re proposing?”

“Am I?” Widowmaker asked with a sly look, “I’m not so sure. But I was thinking we could have dinner together. Maybe find another couple to share it with? A double date?”

Cackling, Sombra grabbed the sides of her cold face and brought it down into a firm kiss on the lips before peppering the rest of her face with countless more, “You’re my most favorite, you know that right?”

“And you, mine,” Widowmaker answered with a smile.

\- - -

Despite both of the women’s concerns, Angela’s progress was as to be expected. Exceptional.

Moira had marked it down happily, having much more faith in this working as Angela worked on staying perfectly poised and obedient.

Angela’d even passed what Moira had called the Annoying Test which had simply comprised of her smacking the good doctor in the face randomly for three days straight. Not hard, just sudden enough to be annoying. It hadn’t even been a real test. Moira had just wanted to get a rise out of her.

At this point the two were nearly having fun. It seemed every single day that Angela managed to wrangle Moira into a wager to stay in her room, to the point where Moira didn’t even bother worrying if she’d lose.

Although, in Angela’s favor, she’d gone ahead and helped Moira arrange her files. A show of good faith.

“So, Miss Ziegler,” Moira said, formally addressing Angela as she stared dead eyed at her, “How are you feeling about how your training is going?”

“I don’t feel but it seems to have progressed amicably.”

Not a hint on her face as she joked.

Clapping dully, Moira smiled, “Impressive.”

Snapping back into herself Angela beamed up at her, “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Moira nodded, “You’ll charm them at this rate. We still have a week on top of all of this. If anything, it’s looking like it might just be more of a vacation really. Perhaps, we should test ability to switch it on and off then?”

“Like, randomly throughout the next week?” Angela asked, smoothing down her white dress. Knowing even that must be perfect.

“Yes,” Moira nodded, “How about when I snap my fingers you must switch?”

“Sounds good!” Angela chirped, hopping up, “Dinner time is approaching, yes?”

Laughing, Moira nodded as she pulled up the menu on her computer, “Always your favorite part of the day. Tonight’s curry and rice.”

Angela only laughed herself as she bounced over to see what the side dishes were going to be. Leaning on Moira as she read over her shoulder.

That was something that hadn’t avoided Moira’s notice either.

Unsure if it was merely a ploy to stay in her good graces, Moira couldn’t help but realize exactly how often Angela was pressed up against her.

At night? Made sense. Angela had always been known to be a sleep snuggler. That was nothing new.

But during the day? No matter what was going on, she always seemed to have a little blonde lump attached to her. That was… unusual. She hadn’t been like that in their days of Overwatch at all. Perhaps it was fear. Everyone loves a protector.

Moira fluffed up at a bit at that idea. Not used to being seen as a safe person, usually seen and treated more like a predator.

However, Angela didn’t notice it. Too busy salivating over the upcoming dinner.

A small noise caught Moira’s ear. So tiny that Angela didn’t pick up on that one either.

So it was rather surprising as Moira grabbed her arm, frantically dragging her towards the cells. Leaving a confused Angela to stumble after her, frantically asking, “Moira?! What are you doing?!” through a hand clamped over her mouth.

But only shushed by Moira as the door was locked behind her and the woman whipped around and stomped towards the door.

Angela remained confused until the front door opened when Moira was only halfway across the room.

Two women were there. A cheerful woman in purple and blue, grinning playfully up at Moira. Behind her, the cold, blue, stern woman that Angela recognized as Widowmaker. Neither flinched as they were approached by a positively furious Moira.

“Sombra!” she snapped at the woman as she stood up, “What do you think you’re doing?! I should stomp right past you and go get Akande!”

With almost insulting ease, Sombra dodged past Moira and started jogging through the lab, “Heyyy Moira, just came to see how things are. Gabe told me to.”

Chasing after her but failing to grab the back of her coat, Moira hissed, “Gabriel most certainly DIDN’T ask you to do this.”

Jerking her head back to order Widowmaker to help her only found the woman slowly but surely starting to look around the lab. Reaching for files Moira didn’t want her to touch. Changing course, Moira went to stop the blue woman from snooping.

But as she grabbed Widow’s hand, the woman spoke calmly, “So, I am soon to be your old project. Oui?”

“You’re soon to be kicked out of my laboratory is what you’re soon to be,” Moira growled, before dragging the woman towards Sombra, “Both of you. And then Akande will certainly have some stern words for the both of you.”

The woman’s face was pressed against the glass as she smiled widely at Angela inside, “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than ask for permission. C’mon, Moira, take her out. I wanna get a better look at her.”

“And exactly why should I do anything buy pick you up and throw you, aggressively, out of my laboratory?” Moira replied, still dragging a slightly resisting Widowmaker over to Sombra.

“Because me and Widowmaker already told the kitchen to send our dinners up here,” Sombra twisted her head around with a sneer, “So we could have dinner with our very favorite coworker and hopefully our soon to be second-favorite brainwashee?”

Groaning, Moira rubbed her temples sharply, “Well, you better go and tell them-”

A knock at the door. Moira sighed heavily as she went to answer it. Already knowing what was going to be behind that door. Four dinners. Three nice things of curry and one sad gruel.

Carrying them in, Moira collapsed into the chair in defeat, “You’re insufferable, Sombra.”

But the hacker wasn’t listening, purple strands flashing out of her hands and twisting around the lock on Angela’s door. Springing it open.

Unsure, Angela remained sitting on the bed. Looking from Sombra to Moira, looking for the latter’s approval or disapproval. Really anything telling her what to do.

Eventually Moira looked at her. The glance telling Angela everything she needed to know.

This was going to be a field test of her newly learned skills.

Raising a long finger and gesturing for Angela to come to her, she obeyed. Beleaguered slightly as Sombra latched onto her arm, “We’re gonna be fast friends, you and me.”

Sitting at the table with them, Angela looked from Sombra to Widowmaker to Moira. Uncertainty beating in her heart. Followed quickly by disappointment as the plate of gruel was handed to her as the other three opened their curry.

Hopefully, Moira would just leave her food barely picked over until the other two left.

“So, Angela,” Sombra asked through a mouthful of rice, “How you likin’ it here?”

Angela was quiet for a second before answering, very deadpan, “I have been fed and given water. I cannot complain.”

“Aww, she’s just like when Widowmaker was a baby, right?” Sombra teased Moira.

“Yes, as always, there will be naught but traces of a personality for quite a while,” Moira nodded with a bite, “Although, as you’ve seen with Widowmaker, she will get some sort of new personality. In time.”

“So, how long until she’s fun?” Sombra asked, reaching up and playing with a piece of Angela’s hair. Getting the reddish brown curry into the yellowy hair, “I wasn’t here for Widowmaker’s whole business.”

“Well, it was very gradual, but Widowmaker grew her sass and arrogance over the course of a couple months.”

Sombra groaned, bouncing in irritation and causing her spoonful of curry to spill all over her rice, “I want fun Angie now!”

“You don’t even know her,” Moira groaned, “And what are the chances of two of my test subjects finding you appealing? Hell, I’m surprised that one does.”

Both looking over at Widowmaker who was currently halfway through chewing her food, curry dripping off her chin, looking rather like a deer in headlights. Keeping perfectly quiet as she always did during mealtimes, purposefully to avoid being looked at during. Never the neatest when it comes to eating.

Wiping her mouth, Widowmaker looked at Angela curiously, “She seems much more alert though, no? Always looking around. I didn’t look anywhere but straight forward for three weeks.”

“Newer methods, learning from past mistakes- not that you are one,” Moira started before a sharp glare cut her off, “What I mean is the process is a bit… streamlined now. You were helpful in this, I assure you.”

“Good,” Widowmaker replied, going back into quiet mode to resume eating. Angela caught the woman sneaking suspicious glances at her though. Didn’t like that.

“Hey,” Sombra laughed, drawing attention mercifully away from Angela, “Hey Moira.”

“What.”

“How long do you think it would take for you to brainwash me?”

“An eternity. You’re stubborn and chaotic. It’d be like herding cats making your brain listen to me.”

“Herding cats. Now THAT’S something I should suggest to Akande for the next Annual Talon Games. They’re comin’ up you know. Suggestion box open and everything. Got it tacked up outside his office and I’ve only put in ‘wet t-shirt contest’ ten times so far so maybe he’d listen to a real one.”

Angela tried not to visually perk up at that but damned if the woman hadn’t missed friendly competitions. They used to run something similar in Overwatch back in the way, Angela really had no doubt in her mind that Gabri- er, Reaper… had brought the tradition here. He’d always loved it. Looked forward to it every year. Overwatch v. Blackwatch.

Despite restraining herself, Moira caught her interest at that. Leaning next to her almost untouched dinner, “Hopefully Miss Ziegler will be prepared by then. She was always vicious when it came to the Blackover Annual. One time she almost single handedly one tug of war through what I’m sure was sheer rage.”

“My Widowmaker has just as much hate. Why are your brainwashees so angry, Moira?”

“Would you be happy to be brainwashed?”

“That’s fair.”

Angela jumped as Sombra leaned against her arm, beaming up at her, “Hey, wanna join Blue Team instead? Akande is the leader so I mean, we have Akande. He’s like twelve feet tall and can lift a car. Very useful in the games.”

A balled up napkin bounced off her face, Moira scowling, “My experiment, my team. You already snatched Widowmaker from me, I’m keeping this one.”

“Well, better give ‘er some extra arms or something we’ll still kick your ass.”

Standing up, Moira grabbed Sombra like a misbehaving kitten and started pulling her away from her completed dinner, “Alright, you finished your food. Looks like it’s time for you and your trash talking self to get out of laboratory and let me get back to work.”

The two slowly started approaching the door, Sombra unable to squirm her way out of Moira’s death grasp as the tall woman kept succeeding in her mission.

There was a sliding noise as Widowmaker pushed her empty dish away from her and politely wiped her mouth. Yellow eyes sliding over to Angela in this quiet moment, “So. Miss Ziegler.”

Looking back Angela found herself being scrutinized, “Miss… Maker.”

“You seem… well enough.”

“And you.”

There was silence for a second before Angela couldn’t help herself.

“What is… what is life like for you?” she asked.

Widowmaker seemed unsurprised by her question but stared into the distance nonetheless for awhile before answering, “You will grow to be comfortable here. Perhaps, you may even grow to like it. I believe I have.”

At that, Widowmaker abruptly stood up and brushed past Moira. Ignoring the sudden, invasive look the woman was giving her.

Widowmaker likes being here.

She likes something.


	5. Times Are A’Changing

“Remember not to slouch, that’s the one thing I always see you slipping on,” Moira instructed, patting Angela’s lower back.

“I’m not a child,” Angela retorted, “I have all of this down pat, you have nothing to worry about.”

“You could have fooled me with the not-a-child thing, you’re an overgrown child,” Moira lightly joked before a more serious statement, “I have plenty to worry about as well. So far you seem to be batting zero to two.”

“Have I not been impressive, so far?”

“You have been doing alright.”

“What cruel words, Moira,” Angela leaned her head on Moira’s arm, looking up at her, “A little praise has always-”

“I’m not here to coddle you, Ziegler,” she said, nudging Angela upright, “Don’t do that in public. We cannot have you joking around so casually at this stage.”

Angela pouted as they continued to walk down the darkly lit hallway, a door down in the distance, “There’s no one here right now though.”

“Always assume someone is there as someone just might be.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“You’re not being paranoid enough,” Moira replied, “Today’s meeting should be quite small, just the highest ranking members. You’ll recognize Akande and Gabriel only, probably.”

“An intimidating two though,” Angela replied, nervously adjusting the Talon jumpsuit she’d been given. The plain white dress which had been more of a hospital gown than an outfit and this wasn’t much better but at least she was a bit warmer in it. However, it covered the collar around her neck. Pressing it in as an unpleasant reminder of her situation and almost making her miss the dress for all its coldness. At least it kept the lightweight collar almost entirely forgettable.

“As you grow to know Akande you’ll find him a much friendlier person than you’d think and you know Gabriel’s bark is much worse than his bite.”

“I doubt both of those things, somehow.”

“Well, get to believing because we’re going in.”

Pushing the door open, she ushered the scared Angela in. Sweeping her eyes across the room, Angela took in the small group. Akande was unmistakable, such a tall man at the head of the table. Smiling, oddly genuinely. Next to him, sat Gabriel, or Reaper as he wished to be called. Wearing the mask even now.

“Ah, Moira, I was beginning to wonder if we were going to have to call security on you,” Akande said, patting the woman on the arm as she passed, “Always fashionably late with you.”

“How else would I keep the mystery alive in our friendship?” she asked, running her hand along his back as she passed.

“Show us your hard work, my friend,” Akande said, pivoting his chair to them as they passed to the podium behind him, “We’re all eager to see what you’ve done with Miss Ziegler. Don’t worry though, just a few questions to check up on your two then I’ll let you get back to work.”

Angela stayed quiet and let Moira push her around until she was facing the crowd in front of her, Moira gesturing to them, “Greetings, my fellow Talon leads. As I’m sure you all know well, we recently acquired Miss Angela Ziegler and she was put into my charge to convert to a Talon agent a la Miss Amélie Lacroix. Of course, this was simple enough. A touch more stubborn, Amélie was rather docile due to her life as a civilian.”

“Do you feel that Miss Ziegler’s combat experience and medical knowledge has been uneffected by your experiments?” Akande asked, referring to a list of questions he’d written down.

“Not a concern,” Moira affirmed, “If anything, she’ll be even more medically proficient due to her time with me. Given the resources that Talon has at their disposal.”

“Excellent,” Akande smiled, looking unsurprised as he checked it off, “Any ongoing medical issues you’ve encountered? Anything that should keep her from the line of duty?”

“None at all, healthy as a horse,” Moira replied, feeling Angela twitch in irritance at that comparison.

Thankfully, none of the very few people in the room seemed to notice that. Other than a slight movement by Reaper, leaning forward and scrutinizing her but he’d been doing that since she’d walked in. Presumably it was nothing.

“Alright, I’ll let you get to the technical parts and your own little presentation in a second,” Akande nodded, “Just one more question. What are your intended plans her going forward?”

“Well, I mean, I feel it’s fairly obvious that she’ll be working with me in the labs as my assistant and/or coworker of sorts. I am certain she’ll be extremely useful in helping me with my experiments, possibly coming up with ones of her own.”

Akande laughed, shaking his head, “No, no, you misunderstand. We want an outline of the future experiments on Miss Ziegler herself. You didn’t stop at simple brainwashing with Widowmaker, you augmented her. Surely you intend to do that again?”

Moira could feel Angela immediately tense up violently from the hand on her back. She was taken aback herself, “I don’t really think that’s necessary. Widowmaker was a civilian who had to be prepared for intense combat situations. Miss Ziegler is a doctor, why would I waste Talon resources on fixing what isn’t broken?”

“Certainly there is something you could do that would make Miss Ziegler more effective on the battlefield, even if she’s not going to be doing any fighting,” Akande retorted, tapping his pen on the pad of paper.

“I… I suppose,” Moira said, despite Angela practically going into rigor mortis, “Do you really feel like it’s necessary, though?”

“Absolutely, I expect nothing but your finest work. I’ll give you an additional month but we intend to do a full release of ‘The New Mercy’ by then. I trust in you, Moira. Don’t disappoint me.”

\- - -

Angela let herself be be led back to the laboratory in a daze, floating along. Guided only by Moira’s hand on her lower back.

Neither of them spoke as they went down hallway after hallway, down elevators and back into the safety of the lab. A cold, uncomfortable silence that enveloped the both of them tightly. Neither of them wanting to acknowledge what they’d just been told.

As the door closed behind her, Angela felt things rush in on her. Eyes frantically jumping around the room, all these… these things that Moira might use on her. Things she’d have to do. Experiments she’d have to test.

Her breathing started picking up, absolutely hyperventilating as Moira gently rubbed her arm, “Calm down, you’re going to give yourself a heart att-”

Moira found herself grasping at air as Angela jumped away from her suddenly and aggressively, whirling around and practically hissing at her like a cornered animal, “You knew about this didn’t you?!”

Eyes narrowing at the accusal, “Of course I didn't! If I knew this would be Akande’s plan it would have been far easier to just go through with it for myself AND for you.”

“So you wish you’d done it then?! You don’t really care about all this, do you?! It’s a game to you?!” Angela continued, one hand raising to her neck and barely restraining from the instinct to take the collar off in what she could only assume was spite.

Despite her anger, Moira continued to step towards Angela. As much as she was trying to sound comforting, her sharp tongue didn’t help, “Come now, you’re talking like a lunatic.”

“Oh, now I’m the lunatic?! You left us, you left EVERYONE, for a terrorist organization!”

“Angela, it had already been shut down-”

“You still chose this!”

Narrowing her eyes, Moira glared down at her from only a couple feet away. Features distorted from below into an ever harsher grimace, “... You should be grateful. Were I not the one here you’d simply be in someone else’s claws. Twisted into a Widowmaker 2.0.”

The shove that came from Angela was barely even enough to make Moira take a step back as Angela yelled, “You did that you know! You always act like it’s some great sacrifice that you’re protecting me but how many have you hurt, Moira?! How many have you killed?!”

A sudden movement brought a torrent of glass shards shattering around against the wall. Angela protected from the assault by the light armor of the jumpsuit. Moira’s good arm shredded with small trickles of blood seeping through her white button-up’s sleeve.

Bright red staining white brought Angela back, shocked at what she’d done. Looking from the growing crimson to the tray of destroyed beakers she’d thrown at the wall.

Jumping into action she grabbed the still shocked Moira, quickly pushing up the baggy sleeves to survey the damage, horrified, “Oh no, oh no, oh no, Moira! I’m… I’m so so sorry. Let me patch you up.”

Pulling Moira to a chair she sat down, looking at the injuries on her own arm. It wasn’t that bad but a couple had dug a little bit deeper than the others. Crouching next to her, Angela started cleaning the injuries. Looking up at Moira with an odd mixture of shame and fear.

Moira wasn’t the one deciding this, she was just as much the pawn of Talon right now as Angela was.

And she’d been helping her.

So Angela cut up her arm.

Good going you dumb, ugly, little bird of a woman.

The damage wasn’t too bad, requiring nothing more than a handful of band aids but either way Angela carefully put them over the worse cuts. Even as she finished she continued to hold Moira’s hand tightly, still kneeling next to her, “Are you alright?”

“I am… fine,” Moira said as she sharply pulled her hand out of Angela’s grasp, having just sat there and silently watched Angela fix the damage she’d done, “Physically, at least. Your words cut much deeper than the glass, unfortunately.”

Angela tried to catch Moira’s eyes as she spoke but only found herself oscillating pointlessly like a fan in winter, “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Moira said nothing but a curt, “Right.”

“I’ll… I’ll just go,” Angela choked a little, voice strangled as she stood up. Giving Moira a second, vaguely hoping the woman would reach out to her, before slinking back to her cell. Changing into the white dress hung up in there and closing the door behind her. Hearing it lock into place.

Moira said nothing to her for the rest of the day. Quietly cleaning up the shattered beakers, knowing no one else can know. Suspicious.

Lurking off to her room once that was done, for unknown activities, with not even a glance towards Angela’s cell.

That night, for the first night since her first here, Angela slept on that uncomfortable prison bed.

\- - -

The next morning, Angela jumped to attention as Moira walked out of her room. Tapping on the glass like a reverse fish, calling out to her, “Moira!”

She watched Moira sigh and walk over before crossing her arms, “What?”

Her hand squeaked on the glass a little, lips twisting into a grimace, “I… shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t have,” Moira replied.

“May we speak without the glass between us?” Angela asked.

A few beeps, the door releasing. Stepping out tensely, looking up at her like a kicked dog.

Moira silent and waiting.

A failure at words, Angela’s lips simply quivered as they threw herself at Moira and trapped the thin woman in a tight hug. Whatever apologies she was spewing were muffled by the taller woman’s chest.

Again, Moira’s chest heaved in a heavy sigh. Patting the yellowy hair, she gave in, an action that Angela was far too used to being done for her, “It’s… well, I don’t want to say ‘fine’ but I forgive you. Just… don’t say it again. Your accusations are always too sharp. Always have been.”

Nodding against the thin fabric like a cat rubbing against its owner, “I will try and hold my tongue, as much as I can.”

“Good,” Moira said, still letting long fingers thread through the fluffy hair, “But I hope you know that means you’re going to have to quiet yourself when things like… last night happen.”

Sobering up, her sharp little hands balled into the back of Moira’s shirt tighter, “What are we going to…”

“Today, we’ll be visiting the others,” Moira replied, already answering her question, “I figure it doesn’t hurt to hear some ideas outside especially considering my viewpoint is… compromised.”

“You’ll try to-”

“I will try to keep it minimal.”

“As best you can?”

“As best I can.”

\- - -

Angela smoothed the lab coat, oddly and deeply comforted by being allowed to wear something more familiar.

Granted, it didn’t fit her right. One of Moira’s spares, gliding only a few inches off the ground. Shirt simultaneously too tight and too loose, too long. Also Moira’s. The pants were, reportedly, an old pair of Sombra’s that was left in the lost and found too long. Slightly too tight.

She looked and felt rather professional though, which was nice.

“We’ll be meeting with Widowmaker first, as she’s remarkably pragmatic and is also a previous subject of mine.”

“How is your relationship with her?” Angela prodded, curiously.

“Less annoying them Sombra, more childish than Gabriel or Akande. A nice middle ground. I can respect it.”

A curt knock on a door before entering. Wide and open, it was clearly the armory with shelves and shelves of guns and ammunition filling it up. Unmistakably, Widowmaker was sitting on a table with a gun disassembled in front of her. Closely examining some odd little piece, turning it over and over in her hand inquisitively.

“Widowmaker,” Moira said, echoing in the silence and making Widow’s head jerk violently towards them before going back to neutral, “How are you?”

“I simply am,” she replied, gently setting the piece aside, “And you?”

“I figured it would be a good idea to ask some of my cohorts about the Mercy Case and their opinions and ideas. Always good to get a couple other brains picking at an issue,” Moira said, nudging Angela forwards, “And you, my dear, have experienced firsthand with my handiwork.”

For a long second, Angela watched Widowmaker take in the entirety of her being. Yellow eyes piercing past her skin, past her muscles, past her guts, into her soul. An invasive stare that left Angela uncomfortable.

“Well? Your assessment?” Moira said, patting Angela’s shoulder.

“She will be a prime target. Important to the team. Small. Weak. Brains, not brawn. Perhaps make her more durable. Built in armor, tougher skin, enhanced vision perhaps? Last one a bit precautionary, rather than durability. See danger coming.”

There was the sound of gentle taps as Moira took note of that, nudging Angela towards the door, “Sounds amenable, thanks for your input. I’ll let you get back to work, I know you’re not one for… socializing.”

Widowmaker simply nodded and set about her work again, soft clinking noises chasing down the empty hallway after them as they left the warehouse.

As the door shut behind them, Angela looked up curiously at her, “Well, that was a short conversation.”

“It is simply how Widowmaker is,” Moira shrugged, “Were we to loiter, she would only get annoyed. How did those upgrades sound? Amenable?”

Angela looked conflicted at that but with a defeated voice she replied, “Please don’t build armor into my skin.”

Shaking her head, Moira led Angela towards the next visit.

This one was a bit more personal and a bit more out of the way. Spiralling up higher and higher in the building, passing through more and more hallways with office-like rooms until the rooms started getting… nicer.

Must be where the higher-ups work.

Moira didn’t knock as they reached the door, barely giving Angela the time to read the word “Reaper” emblazoned on its golden plaque as it was pushed open.

A loud growling noise was what met them, an angry and short, “Why don’t you ever knock?!”

Peering in, Angela had to force herself not to recoil as she took in the sights. He looked… sickly. Once vibrant skin greyed and more wrinkles than ever criss crossed his face. Intersecting with old scars, new scars. His beard missed small patches, grey cut into it at random intervals. Blacked over eyes glared at them beyond the worn hands over his face.

He reached for the mask but it was closer to Moira than him. Plucked up easily with a grin, Moira holding it up over her face, “You’re an odd one, you know that?”

“Give it back,” Gabriel demanded, “What do you want?”

“For the mask or why I’m here?” she teased, turning it over in her hand, “Either way, I suppose the answer is a short conversation with you. I’m polling my friends.”

The word ‘friend’ almost seemed to comfort Gabriel for a second before his eyes flicked up to Angela. Or, at least, she supposed they did. It was a bit hard to tell exactly where Gabriel was looking without pupils but his face had certainly indicated such behind the hand still partially covering it.

“Yes, yes, about her,” apparently Moira could tell easier then her, “As you know Akande told me he’d like to see physical augmentation as well.”

“Surprised you didn’t originally,” he replied, critically eyeing Angela in her lab coat. An old and familiar sight for him, in a new and unfamiliar location.

“I still stand by my stance that it’s silly and a waste of resources but who am I to argue with him?” Moira reached out and played with a bit of Angela’s hair, “What do you think, Gabriel? Widowmaker gave a few suggestions but I’d like to hear yours. Heaven knows I respect your opinion.”

The old man’s chest puffed up at that, giving Angela the first look at him without him attempting to crouch down and hide. Doubling down at he stood up and walked over to her, still towering above her like always. Despite age sinking its claws into him he was still an intimidatingly powerful figure, if anything he looked a bit bigger than before.

A quick up and down, much less invasive and much more practical than Widowmaker’s, he thought for a second before replying, “I imagine we’ll be giving her armor. Something to make her stronger. It’ll be heavy. Might as well prepare her for it.”

“She IS used to hauling around a Valkyrie suit, you know,” Moira retorted.

Slowly he nodded, grabbing one of her arms and giving it an experimental squeeze, “Integration then. Last I heard they’re examining her suit to refit it. Get that information from them, maybe weld the wings into her back for better mobility. Exoskeleton, maybe?”

Deep down, Moira genuinely loved that idea but she could see Angela paling under that suggestion. Regardless, Moira answered positively to that, “Perhaps down the line, start working up to that.”

The rest of the conversation circled around that, Angela standing there in abject fear as the old Blackwatch buddies towered over her, casually discussing welding god knows what into her skeleton. God, she felt like a child, listening to her parents discussing what she was going to be going to college for despite her own wishes to become a doctor. Except, you know, nobody doesn’t want their child to be a doctor and also instead of college it’s “horrific body horror experiments.”

Either way it ended eventually. Moira handing back the forgotten mask with a smile before waving goodbye to Gabriel. Pushing Angela towards the door.

Once again, as they were alone, she raised her eyebrows, “Oh Angela, don’t tell me that one didn’t sound cool.

All she got was a glare in response.

This walk was much, much shorter with Akande working on the same floor as Gabriel. His door was even more ornate and yet Moira still didn’t knock. Peeking her head in, “Akande?”

“Ah, Moira, this’ll have to be quick,” he said, tapping on the phone in front of him, “I have a long day of important calls.”

“I’ll condense it for you then. Polling the masses, by which I mean my small circle of friends, about what you brought up.”

“You’re looking for suggestions? I’m surprised.”

“Not so much suggestions, per se, as seeing if anyone is thinking what I’m thinking. Verifying my own plans.”

He nodded at that, “Makes sense. I’m sure you’ve already been inundated with practical responses so let me give you something a bit different. Make her more intimidating. She’s the least frightening person I’ve ever seen, if anything it would make her stand out in our lineup.”

Moira certainly did look a bit surprised at that, “I suppose that makes sense.”

“And now, and I really hate to push you out, but I really do have a lot to do today. Have dinner with me this weekend?” Akande offered, already picking up the phone and dialing a number.

Moira simply nodded and rushed Angela out of the office, just as the sound of Akande cheerily greeting someone filled the office.

“Intimidating?” Angela asked looking up at Moira.

“I could see it, you are pretty much the least threatening human being I’ve ever seen.”

Eyebrows furrowed as Moira started leading them back. For a long, long time they were quiet. Just listening to the sounds of Talon members bustling around, passing by them, chatting together amicably, curious glances at Angela the second she came into viewing range.

Moira looked at her small list with intrigue, “Well… I certainly received some options. What do you think?”

“I… don’t tremendously like the idea of any of them.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate. You do know I have to do something right?”

“Didn’t know you were lettin’ ‘em pick and choose now, Momo,” a third voice sang next to them.

Angela jumped in fear but Moira simply expertly whipped a hand out, her fingers gripping something unseeable but causing it to make a “GACK!” noise of discomfort. Purple light twisting in the air, leaving a struggling Sombra trying to get the death grip off of her jaw and cheeks.

“Leggo!” she said, but only found long, powerful fingers digging into her jaw more and keeping her in place as she tried to pull away, “Goddamn!”

“It’s rude to spy on your friends,” Moira hissed with a sharp look to Angela as well. Immediately making her recall her previous statement about conversations in public. This was why.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just walking in the same general direction you were and am capable of hearing things with my ears.”

“And exactly why were you walking around invisible then?”

“It’s fun.”

Moira only grimaced further at that, “Don’t you have a Widowmaker to annoy?”

“Nah, right now I have a Moira to annoy,” Sombra grinned, cheeks pushing into Moira’s fingers as she did, “Heard you were looking for suggestions on what to do to the little bird. Hear me out, big, ole ti-”

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to the gods that I will end you.”

Sombra only giggled though, finally released from the deathgrip as she prattled off a few more ideas, “Laser eyes! Glow in the dark hair! A spine with like… sick spikes sticking out of it! More arms! Less arms? A second mouth, on her-”

“Oh look, the lab,” Moira said, giving Sombra a shove that sent her far enough back that she could shove in Angela and slink in herself. Hissing at Sombra through the crack, “Go annoy someone else.”

“What about my ideas?” she bounced her body back and forth like a happy child.

“I do not want or need them,” Moira replied, slamming the door right in her face as she bounded forward.

\- - -

Angela could still hear the sounds of Sombra trying to yell suggestions through the thick door, extremely muffled but still there. The door handle jiggling as she tried to convince them to let her in. Eventually giving up and leaving.

Moira was perched at one of the tables, rubbing at her temples with her fingers. Speaking to Angela when she heard her approach, “Did ANY of that sound vaguely alright by you?”

“You… really don’t know what to do, do you?” Angela asked.

“Of course I know what to do!” Moira’s head shot up and she glared at Angela accusingly as she gestured wildly upwards, “I always knew what to do and it’s what Gabriel said!”

“But I don’t want-” Angela started.

It came back at her, Moira pitching her voice up and doing a mocking swiss accent, “But I don’t waaaaant!! That’s all I’ve gotten from you since yesterday. Do you think I want this either?!”

“It’s not your body that’s on the line, Moira!” Angela yelled back.

“My neck is though!” Moira slammed the table and stood up, making Angela skitter away as she approached, “You should have been a routine job! Indoctrinate, experiment, train! Boom! Done!”

“It’s not my fault that I got captured!” Angela patted her own chest accusingly, “You’re the one working for a terrorist organization! Why don’t you get that you’re the one in the wrong?!”

“You think I don’t know that?! I knew what I signed up for, what I didn’t know was coming was a curveball that was going to jeopardize it all?! Why couldn’t that worthless girl have captured someone else! Anyone else!”

Moira was out and out pacing back and forth now, eyebrows furrowed as things turned over and over in her mind.

Feeling her breath pick up, Angela knew she couldn’t lose it again. This situation… was precarious. Forcing herself back down she ran things over and over in her mind. Trying to shut down the emotional side of her brain. Look at it from a purely logical side.

She was trapped by Talon, a device around her neck that would keep her from leaving under anything other than Akande’s order. Moira was here. Moira, despite all this, is the only person purely on her side. Moira has to do something. If Moira doesn’t do something, both Moira AND Angela will be in danger. But if Moira does something, Angela will be changed (most assumedly irreparably) by the action.

Closing her eyes, Angela took a deep breath that brought Moira’s attention back to her. Mismatched eyes watching her every movement as Angela approached her and gently took both her hands in her own. Looking up at her with fearful but determined eyes, “Look, I need you to stop asking me about what experiments to do to me.”

Immediately anger flared back up again, “If we don’t-”

“There is no ‘we’ in this, Moira. This is just going to be a ‘you.’ I’m placing all of this in your hands. Whatever you need to do… I want you to do it. Don’t tell me what it is, not even a hint. My only request is you try to… try to keep me human.”

Hands tensed and then went limp in hers. Pulling out of her grasp as Moira pulled her tightly into a hug. Voice strained as she started stroking the blonde hair again, “I’ll do my best work on you, I promise.”

God did Angela hope that Moira could make good on that promise.


	6. Cut and Sew

Slowly, slowly, the waking world found Angela again. Anaesthesia wearing off, eyes fluttering open only to flinch back at the bright, white light glaring down at her.

Groaning, she didn’t know whether she should sit up or stay laying down. Really having no idea what Moira had done, a little too afraid to look down and find out. The woman had tried several times to tell Angela what she was going to do but she had been adamant that she didn’t want to know.

Even now, after it was all done, Angela still didn’t want to know.

Closing her eyes, she lay there and tried to enjoy a few more seconds of ignorance.

However, it wasn’t long before she felt her messy hair brushed away from her face with a, “Rise and shine, Angela.”

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes again only to once more find the light too bright and closing them tightly again, “So…”

“Do you want me to walk through your enhancements yet?” Moira asked, “I wouldn’t say any of it is a surprise anymore. Pretty sure you’re noticing one of them right now.”

“Is that why it’s so bright?” Angela said, eyes still closed as she felt Moira sit her upright, “Did you make me a vampire?”

“No, enhanced eyesight,” Moira said, popping open one of her eyes with her fingers to examine it, “Should be better now that the light isn’t blaring right in them.”

Blinking them open, Angela found Moira was right. She’d always had decent eyesight, needing glasses for reading, not much more, but now she could see every detail with almost disturbing clarity. Down to the small spider weaving its web in the corner, other side of the room.

Moira flicked off the operating room light, pulling Angela over to a wheelchair, “You don’t really need this but perhaps stay off your feet for a couple days, just in case. Doesn’t hurt.”

Angela didn’t fight it but as Moira wheeled her back into the main laboratory she felt her eyes slowly dragging down. Heart dropping as she raised her own hand to look at it. Ghostly pale. Touching it, it felt normal. Maybe a bit tougher.

“Slight damage and pain resistance,” Moira said, not missing a tick of Angela’s movement, “Nothing major, but it will help on the battlefield.”

Next, Angela noted her hair. Gently moving around her face from being pushed around. Still blonde but nearly white. Brushing it forward, Angela looked at it better. A platinum, ashy blonde.

“Aesthetic,” Moira admitted, “They wanted you to look different. Your old, regular blonde looked out of place anyways.”

Angela felt her stomach twist as they continued, past the laboratory and into Moira’s personal quarters. She knew it was for the ornate, full length mirror. Trying not to look too upset as Moira stopped just short of it and walked around to help Angela up.

She wobbled for only a second before taking a step forward and getting her first look at the new her.

Her skin nearly matched her plain white dress, something she hadn’t realized on her first look was that her nails, both finger and toe, were pitch black. Stark against her sheet white skin. Her hair did match the new look more but made her look even more sickly.

This all was alarming but her face… her face was the most notable.

Her lips were black, looking like living lipstick. Eyelids, darkened as well. Making it look like she was permanently wearing makeup or had lost a truly violent fight.

If eyes were the windows to the soul, Angela must look a demon now. The white of her eyes gone, filled in a pitch black leaving only the blue visible. Brighter. Nearly glowing from the darkness.

They looked even more unnatural as tear began to well up in them, growing shinier and even darker.

Nearly collapsing, she felt Moira pick her up. Peeking up at her through her hands, Angela could see her face had lost what confidence it had when Angela had first woken up. Seems the woman had hoped her work would have kept Angela from being too upset.

But Angela… just couldn’t stop crying. She never wanted this. It wasn’t ugly but it wasn’t… it wasn’t her. It was a dark mirror of herself, forced upon her.

Moira had never been great at comforting others and now was no exception. Setting Angela on the bed she pulled her thick comforter over her. Hand feeling like a ghost on the too light hair, “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry you don’t like it. If that brings you a measure of comfort.”

Her hand was grabbed, blacked nails intertwining with normal ones, “It’s not… it’s not your fault. I was just… never the type to modify myself. You know it took me a year to even decide to pierce my ears. And I had to take Lena for moral support!”

“Perhaps we should kidnap her next,” Moira joked, “She’s always been better at this comforting thing than me.”

To her great relief Angela laughed, despite the tears still rolling down her face, “Oh don’t you dare! Leave the poor girl alone, she’s been through enough. I heard her and Emily are even talking about getting married.”

Patting her hand, Moira pulled away, “I’m going to attend to some business, won’t be long. Until then, sleep if you can. If not, you know where the remote is. Don’t order porn. Akande can see whatever we get on pay-per-view and deducts it from our pay. And mocks us.”

“I understand, find the filthiest bukkake porn I can,” Angela said, trying to find some humor in this as she wiped away her tears defeatedly. Fiddling with the remote to flick on the TV.

“I’m shocked you even know what that is.”

“Genji made a joke once. Then he had to explain it to me, it was very awkward. Genji doesn’t make jokes about porn anymore.”

“Alright, you relax now. I’ll be back.”

\- - -

For the next few days, Angela did little but watch period dramas and bad romcoms while she recovered. Crying intermittently although she tried her best to hide that from Moira. But when tear found her in the dead of the night, Moira never slept through it. Though she pretended she did.

It didn’t feel like Angela was being forced to recover from anything. Remarkably, it almost felt like nothing had been done to her at all. Although, she supposed, that was Moira’s expertise paired with the fact she’d done as little as possible. Surface only.

She knew, however, that plenty were inquiring about her. Finding excuses to go to the medbay. No one was willing to commit to seriously injuring themselves though, finding themselves turned away by an annoyed Moira with naught but a band-aid.

Moira was admittedly taking this as a bit of a vacation too. Oftentimes joining Angela, sitting on the other side of the bed with a snack for them between their hips. Health food and junk food, intermixed.

Angela… could almost have gotten used to that. Sure she was getting a bit antsy from having nothing of importance to do but it was nice spending downtime with Moira.

They hadn’t done that since their Overwatch days. It had always been all too easy for Angela to talk Moira into making snacks and curling up with her.

Looking over at her now though… Angela had known her angle back then. But back then she’d been too awkward and scared to do anything about it. Never having the guts to reach out and try to hold her colleague’s hand.

Some odd little part of her brain still wanted to reach for said hand. But she didn’t.

Despite what enjoyment she could squeeze from it, it was still obvious Angela wasn’t at one hundred percent emotionally. Especially whenever she caught a glimpse of her reflection.

But Moira had a fix for that too, something she’d set up.

She’d known Angela for long enough to know she woman would chase any shiny toy presented.

The daunting task ahead of them was still there though, her first walk around as the new her. Moira had at least managed to talk Akande into giving Angela a few pieces of Talon clothing to choose between.

Right now she looked shrunken, an oversized Talon hoodie drowning her in fabric. Hood up. Her shorts underneath it not even visible but it was so long it didn’t really matter. Black sneakers, no socks.

“Where are we going?” Angela said, barely visible for the hood.

“I have a surprise for you,” Moira said, leading her along by the hand.

“What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?”

Immediately Angela looked up with a pout, “I hate surprises and you know that.”

“Didn’t stop me from helping Gabriel set up a surprise party for you back in Overwatch, won’t stop me from helping Gabriel surprise you again,” Moira said with a wink.

“Oh, so I get a hint? We’re going to see Gabriel?”

“Mayhaps,” Moira said, patting her shoulder as they walked towards the door out of the lab, “Keep your head down for now though, hold my hand, and I’ll lead you.”

Sighing, Angela did. The second her head ducked it was completely hidden by the hood. Allowing her naught but little peeks out as they twisted down hallways. Walked through wide open rooms.

Every corner of the place was crawling with curious Talon agents. As they always did when she left the lab. Angela wondered if that would ever change. Would she become a normal part of Talon at some point? Her hand lifted to scratch at the collar she’d grown so accustomed to. What was going to happen when that changed? It’s not like her and Moira could just traipse out together.

Even if they could… Talon would hunt them then. And honestly, Angela couldn’t see Overwatch wanting to harbor the woman again. Angela… could always use her as a key out but on the other hand, she absolutely couldn’t. The woman was nothing if not loyalty and fair, she couldn’t use Moira like that.

Her grip on Moira’s hand tightened in stress then loosened in surprise as Moira gently rubbed her thumb over the back of her hand.

Angela supposed she couldn’t think that far ahead.

When Moira pushed open the door, Angela found the smallish room oddly… like a home ec room. Lots of sewing machines, piles of fabric, plenty of supplies.

Given the hint of “Gabriel” Angela couldn’t help but feel a bit excited. She was more than smart enough to know that whatever the surprise was, it was going to involve a custom outfit designed and sewn by him.

His back was to them, crouched over a desk. Unaware of their presence until the heavy door slammed shut behind them.

Jerking his head back those all-black eyes glared back at them, “You weren’t supposed to be here until night. And you were supposed to KNOCK.”

Quick as a whip, Moira was at his side and flicking the skull mask out of his reach, “Please, Gabriel, the mask is both ghoulish AND childish. Can we not?”

This scene, jarringly familiar to Angela, took her back.

Gabriel and his masks.

\- - -

Halloween, oh so many years ago. The Overwatch Halloween party. The couple costume contest. Not necessarily romantic, plenty of platonic couples had teamed up to vy for the prize and the bragging rights.

But no matter who won it was Gabriel who was winning in the end.

Almost every Halloween costume costume each pair had acquired was designed and made by Gabriel Reyes.

Of course, at the end of the day, it was most likely he and Jack who would win. He always saved his best work for himself. Jack got in on virtue of it being a couple costume contest.

Angela had been mildly surprised when Moira asked her to be her partner but supposed that made sense. The rest of Blackwatch had been pretty accounted for. Gabriel with Jack, as I said. Jesse and Genji as well.

“Like we wouldn’t make the perfect angel-devil pair,” Moira had coaxed her with.

Of course, she wouldn’t have even needed to coax her. Angela would have done anything for a bit of attention from her.

By the time Angela and Moira had met up with Gabriel he’d already had a plethora of designs spread out on his work desk. It was a bit amusing to see these high fashion looking drawings side by side with his classified Blackwatch files. Angela had made a mental note to ask Jack if they ever found Gabriel’s outfit designs mixed in with reports. As she now knew, they had.

“Thank you for your help Gabriel,” Angela had smiled, looking at the designs, “These are all so amazing, I simply don’t know which one I prefer.”

He had tapped a finger on his favorite, “I like this one. Classic. Simple but elegant.”

“Is that what you call simple?” Moira had jeered, plucking it from Angela’s hands, “It’s all embroidery and faux-pearls.”

“I mean the cut,” Gabriel said, taking it back, “I suppose you’ve picked-”

Moira hadn’t had Angela’s indecisiveness. Holding out her chosen one, a tight, slinky and evil looking devil dress. Lots of fake rubies. She smiled, “You know me well, Gabriel.”

“Hope I would, considering I’d had you watching my back for years.”

Angela had giggled a bit behind her hand, always a big jealous of how closely knit the Blackwatch crew was. Secrecy will do that to you.

“Let’s get down to business though,” Gabriel had said with a wave towards Moira.

A gasp had escaped Angela’s lips at how quickly Moira was to start pulling off her t-shirt right in front of Gabriel.

“What?” Moira had teased, “Don’t be a prude, it’s not the first time Gabriel’s seen me in my knickers.”

“But he’s…” Angela had gestured embarrassedly at him, “A guy!”

But Moira had only laughed, nodding towards him with a smirk, “Oh, dear, you think he’s ever been even remotely attracted to a woman? Cute.”

\- - -

Then and even now, Angela had still been a bit embarrassed by it but this time it was also a bit intimidating.

But the measuring tape, cold against her skin, lassoing her waist like a noose, was familiar. Even though Gabriel was so… so different looking. Scarred, grey skin. All black eyes. Old. Although, Angela supposed, she was well on the path to looking like that too. Except for maybe the “old” part. At least, she hoped not the “old” part.

“You’ve barely gained an inch,” he said, sounding almost jealous, “I’d ask you how you do it but I’m pretty sure the answer is ‘nanomachines.’”

“A lady doesn’t reveal her secrets,” Angela nodded.

“Of course you don’t,” he grumbled.

Despite the differences, Angela felt an almost sort of… comfort in this familiar scene. Standing there in her underwear, Gabriel measuring her, Moira watching over it while she flipped through the designs.

“You always make too many,” Moira tsked at him, “You know the poor girl’s indecisive and you’ve given her just short of a catalogue.”

“Narrow it down for her,” was his only reply, moving the tape down to measure Angela’s hips, “I imagine she’s a bit more… compliant.”

“Oh, if only.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Gabriel warily regarded her for a second before getting back to work, “I think you should-”

“Go with the black and gold.”

Barking at her, Gabriel grimaced, “You gonna let me finish my sentences?”

“You going to be any less predictable, old man?” Moira smiled back.

Nodding towards Angela, Gabriel replied, “Look, don’t make this process more difficult. Pick one, ask if she wants it. Considering what you’ve supposed to have accomplished, she shouldn’t care.”

“Actually I’ve been experimenting with a little more preservation of personality-”

Groaning, Gabriel let the tape fall only to start rolling it up again, “Of course you have. Why would you want your job to be easy?”

“What is life without challenges, my friend? Not one worth living.”

Regardless of her sass, Moira held out the design in question to Angela, “Is this to your liking, Miss Ziegler?”

Angela’s only answer was the wide smile she was incapable of keeping off her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day jeffery or michael overwatch is gonna come into my house and make me look like a jackass for referring to gabriel "reaper" reyes as a gay man multiple times in my fics by making some dumb shit canon like he's got a secret wife and kids or something


	7. The New Mercy

Angela could see her reflection, a mirror off to the side behind the stage putting her pale new form in stark contrast with the black painted wall.

Her dress blended in though, aside from the golden accents glinting in the darkness.

When Gabriel had dropped off the two bags down in the laboratory, Angela had found it her hardest test of ‘behave’. Nearly ready to burst as Moira took them from him with calm gratitude, absolutely snatching them out of her hands the second the door closed.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Moira had laughed as she watched Angela jog back to their room to change.

By the time Moira had come in, Angela had already been halfway dressed.

It was a few hours later now. The only inelegant thing was the explosive collar still around Angela’s neck, her constant morbid accessory.

In addition to the dress, Moira had procured some odd golden eyeliner to break up the darkness around her eyes. But that was nothing compared to the dress. It was simply gorgeous, heavy black fabric jutting out at stylish, irregular intervals to floor length. Each jagged end having a golden border to it, twisted in a long celtic knot pattern.

That was, of course, to match Moira’s suit. Mercifully, Angela’s new skin hides her blush because… well, Moira’s always pulled off suits well and a custom made, black-and-gold one was no exception.

Looking over at her, Angela still felt butterflies in her stomach.

The serious look on Moira’s face wasn’t helping, the woman had always pulled off the stern but attractive thing.

Angela could hear Akande loud and clear on the other side of the curtain. Going over a variety of talking points and trying to charm the crowd. Well, probably succeeding in charming. Even Angela had to admit that the man had a way with words, using every ounce of his intelligence in his arsenal.

But right now he could be giving Angela a personalized inspirational speech and she would still be freaked out.

A sudden hand gently threading into the very edge of the hair on the back of her neck, exposed from her hair done up. Pleasant tingles going up her spine as Moira continued, speaking softly, “It’ll be alright, Angela. You’ve readied yourself plenty for this.”

Not exactly the most comforting words, very formal, but Angela appreciated that she was even trying.

“It’s just… a lot,” Angela said, mouth growing dry when she merely thought about how many people were out there. She’d made the grave error of peeking out of the curtains at the crowd out there.

Now, Angela was no stranger to big crowds but big crowds full of hyper powerful baddies all looking at her like a super weapon? That was something else entirely.

“You won’t have to talk too much,” Moira assured, “ I’ll handle most of it just like last time. You just need to stand there and look pretty. Occasionally quip a few brain dead lines praising me and my work.”

“Moira, you sound downright excited about that part,” Angela accused with a smile.

“I won’t pretend some praise from a past and once again contemporary wouldn’t be pleasurable,” Moira quirked an eyebrow.

“Will I get anything in return?” she teased, looking up at her.

“You look distractingly beautiful tonight, hopefully you won’t make me tongue tied out there.”

Moira. Bad with being comforting, good with compliments.

With pride she smiled as Angela nearly contorted in gleeful embarrassment at that, giggling, “M-Masterful at flirting, as always.”

“Were that something I could have been paid for, my life might have turned out differently,” Moira laughed.

“I’d certainly pay for such a service.”

“Thankfully, you get it for free.”

Both women shut up as the curtain parted, just enough for Akande to wave them on stage. Their cue.

Moira extended a hand as well as she stepped up onto the stage, helping Angela up alongside her. Glaring lights above making the golden accents pop brilliantly, turning the both of them into absolute visions.

“Please give a hand to your old friend, Moira O’Deorain, and our newest recruit, Angela Ziegler,” Akande said with a flair of his hand towards the two women.

With practiced ease, Moira bowed and Angela gave a small curtsy before Moira approached the microphone still leading Angela by the hand, “My dear contemporaries, I’m quite proud to unveil my latest success story.”

“And we’re quite proud to have her,” Akande replied, talking into his own mic, “Why don’t you tell us about her modifications so far?”

“Miss Ziegler has been outfitted with enhanced vision and reduced damage,” Moira said, gesturing to her eyes and running a hand down her shoulder, “I’m experimenting with a slower but more intuitive process in regards to genetic manipulation. Tweaks, not ripping everything out.”

“May I ask why you’ve chosen to changes your methodology?” Akande asked, running down a list of questions in his head that they had agreed upon earlier.

“With Miss Ziegler here we want to be careful so not as to knock anything loose in her brain,” Moira said, a single finger tapping on Angela’s temple, “For this patient, her brainpower is tantamount. Uncompromisable. We need her to be mentally acute for her to assist me in my future experiments.”

Angela nearly fainted from stress as Akande addressed her personally, “Are you looking forward to that, Miss Ziegler?”

She swallowed hard but managed to hide it, “I will assist my contemporary Moira in whatever she wishes me to help her with.”

Akande’s sudden laugh echoed through the speakers, “You’ve got them calling you by your first name now?”

“This one will be a bit more of an… intimate cohort,” Moira admitted, suddenly acutely aware that Angela was still holding onto her hand, “Considering we’ll be working side-by-side on a daily basis, unlike all of my other projects.”

Turning back to the crowd, Akande addressed them again, “I’m sure all of you will see one of our doctors soon-”

He paused for their laughter, a few clapping as well. All well aware of the dangers of their occupational field work.

“So please, give Miss Angela Ziegler a hand as well,” he concluded, laughing himself as they all clapped this time.

After this, the two of them were allowed off stage, Angela a bit disappointed at Moira letting go of her hand once they stepped down. She supposed it made sense though, can’t appear too familiar. At least not yet.

Angela felt a bit adrift like this though, just barely resisting urges to reach out for Moira’s arm at the very least.

There were just… so many big names here. She felt almost sick at how many corporate executives she recognized. Representatives from far too many. Despite her feelings, she found them being polite to her which almost instilled a guilt in her.

But as they walked Moira pointed them out in hushed tones to her, eventually allowing her to cling to her arm for a bit.

The venue was impressive as well, the rooftop of a tall building that had been decked out in plenty of dark blue and white lights. To imitate the gorgeous sky above, Angela assumed. Each and every star seemed to be polished to a sheen above them.

Something caught her eye though, just past the Vishkar representative piling his plate.

The food. So much food. From every corner of the earth, to accommodate the diverse crowd.

Moira laughed when she caught Angela’s blackened eyes glinting in the darkness, “You may partake to your heart’s desire. Widowmaker ate half the crepe table at her own unveiling, it’s not unusual.”

At that permission, Angela nearly lunged at the table. Rampage stopped only by politely being allowed through by the Vishkar representative.

But once she was there, the plate was in her hand and she was grabbing something off nearly every corner of the table. Sad only that she couldn’t pile anymore without dropping it on the floor. Looking around, she spotted a collection of tables-for-two off to the side.

“Go, go, get yourself set up,” Moira said, nudging her towards it, “I’m a bit more.. discerning.”

Angela wanted to make a quip back but was far too eager to begin her feast.

Ducking and weaving around curious eyes, Angela placed the plate on the table before stepping up onto the tall, high chair.

But she wasn’t alone for long although it was quite the different tall person easily managing to sit on the chair without even needing to hop up onto the high seat. His plate was much more modest than hers, seems the man has a soft spot for southern comfort food and french cuisine. An odd combination.

Akande looked almost comical perched on such a tiny chair as he asked, “Do you mind if I join you?”

While Angela knew she didn’t really have a choice, she certainly appreciated that he’d at least play pretend she did, “Of course.”

“You are… certainly a bigger eater than I would have expected,” Akande smiled at the huge pile of food she began to start munching away at, “Although, I suppose I also hadn’t expected Widowmaker to be so voracious at hers either.”

“I’ve gained a bad habit of eating a lot all at once,” Angela said, popping a walnut shrimp in her mouth, “Spend too much time in my labs. Forget to eat. So when I can…”

“A workaholic then, unsurprising.”

“It’s an affliction of my people.”

“Your people being?”

“Medical professionals, of course.”

Akande took a bite of the macaron first, the type to eat his dessert first evidently, “I’ve seen that well in Moira, although as far as I’ve ever seen she only picks at her food. No matter how tempting the treats I send her are, she still carefully eats them over weeks.”

“You try to get her to eat more?” Angela asked, now onto the samosas she’d picked up.

“Of course, my primary doctor is practically skeletal,” Akande looked over at said woman, picking and choosing her favorites from the table not far in the distance, “I take care of my people. Even if they make it difficult for me.”

“That is very noble,” Angela said, biting back a comparison to Reinhardt who had a similar policy on food. She remembered all too well the man’s raid on Blackwatch during a particularly stressful week with a cooler full of authentic german sausage. Moira had resisted, the men had given in immediately.

“I am glad you think so,” Akande smiled, tapping the edge of her plate, “I doubt that getting you to eat will be a problem though, thankfully.”

“Never,” Angela said, chancing a smile of her own which Akande seemed to appreciate.

He perked up as he saw Moira begin to approach them, picking up his own plate and taking his leave, “I’ll let you two be.”

Moira nodded at him politely as he passed, curiously tilting her head at Angela as she replaced where he had been, sitting across from her, “Chatting up Akande now, are you? Playing with fire?”

“He came up to me,” Angela defended herself, immediately on the defensive, “What was I supposed to do? Ignore him?”

“Simmer down, I’m teasing,” Moira said, beginning to pick at the small collection of treats on her plate, “I knew he’d start talking to you, it’ll continue. He’s a very hands-on person. A bit surprised he didn’t try to get you to dance with him. Let you digest first, I suppose.”

Looking at the people twirling elegantly on the dance floor, Angela found her nerves crawling back up, “I haven’t… don’t any formal dancing since…”

“Oh, I know,” Moira laughed, “I figured I’d allow myself some fun.”

Her jaw dropped, “Moira! You knew there was going to be dancing!”

“Please, just allow me to enjoy watching you stumble around.”

Pouting, Angela decided to focus on her food.

As the night went on, Angela eventually emptied her plate while idly chatting with Moira who kept insisting she was going to be on the dance floor eventually.

Angela kept getting Moira looking up though, both having a passing interest in astronomy.

Moira had assumed it was going to be Akande to come up and insist they get on the dance floor but the one who did had significantly shinier looks.

Sombra was nearly blinding in her purple-and-blue cocktail dress, cut just a touch too skimpy, absolutely coated in sequins. What did she have on poor Gabriel to make him agree to something so gaudy? Drowned in her own jewelry as well. When she walked, she demanded attention.

Widowmakers was more Gabriel’s style. Like Morticia Addams on her way to a wedding, her dress was black and a velvety purple. Swirling around her to the floor, the sole ornaments demanding attention were ruby spiders holding it in place and curling into her updo. Jewelry to match.

Moira laughed, “Why, Widowmaker, are you trying to upstage Angela at her own reveal?”

“Not intentionally, it is simply how I am,” she replied.

“Don’t she look classy?” Sombra loudly patted Widow on the back, “Man, if I knew Gabriel was gonna make her look so fancy, I would’ve asked for something a bit dressier too!”

Snitching immediate, Widow cut in, “He offered you a gorgeous purple ballgo-”

Sombra didn’t let her finish, ready to accuse Moira, “So, why haven’t we seen little princesa here on the dance floor?”

“She keeps changing the subject when I bring it up.”

Tossing her head back, Sombra cackled, “Why do you leave the sass in your little science experiments? Don’t sound very brainwashy to me.”

“Quiet,” Moira snipped, “They do what they need to, I allow them their wants.”

Swinging her hips, Sombra approached Angela with a playful look, “Well, how about you come dance with me then? If the scarecrow over there won’t get you out there?”

Hands grabbed, Angela’s only choices were ‘let Sombra take her to the dance floor’ or ‘fall flat on her face while Sombra tugged.’ She went with the former with naught but a pleading look back at Moira. Who just looked amused. Damn her.

The frantic, bouncing shakes Sombra was doing were horribly off beat with the much calmer music playing around them as she goaded Angela on, “C’mon, you’ve got some hips, shake ’em!”

Abruptly, Angela tried to imitate Sombra’s erratic movements to little success and much foolishness. It pleased Sombra greatly though, smile wide as she laughed, “That’s the spirit, princesa!”

Princesa. Princess. What a nickname. Angela supposed her behavior warranted such a sarcastic nickname though.

It made a stifled laugh spark up behind her, Angela jerking her head back to find Moira moving much more elegantly with a more… agreeable partner. Widowmaker let herself to be led in elegant circles.

“Don’t laugh, O’Deorain!” Sombra grinned, “You’re next!”

“You’ll keep your grubby little hands off me,” Moira teased, turning away and back, “No one at Talon dances worse than you. An abomination.”

Angela found freedom as Sombra chased after Moira and Widowmaker as they spun away.

While she wasn’t particularly graceful on the ground, Angela breathed a sigh of relief as she was left to dance on her own for a second before lithly Moira reappeared and snatched her up. A spin to claim her as her dance partner with a glib, “I’ve ditched the fools and now you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Angela said, averting her gaze with a nervous smile, “You’ll make me blush.”

“You seem overly concerned with me making you blush, Angela,” Moira secured a hand on Angela’s waist, “Perhaps, you’re overly predisposed to blushing at the things I say and are simply blaming it on me.”

Astute as always. Angela knew she probably shouldn’t be surprised.

Her severity was, oddly enough, one of the things Angela found most attractive about Moira.

Never was the woman one to frivolous, pointless ventures. Pursuing only worthwhile things with the pointed drive of a hunting dog after a bird, shot from the sky. Each jagged line of her body only pointing to her nature, a perfect blend of mind and body.

A body which was pulling her closer, pretending it was all for the slow, elegant dance. Imitating those around them but their eyes locked much more intensely. So easy to forget the world around them, from the people dancing around them to the stars twinkling above.

Angela didn’t pull away though, only leaning into it more.

“Maybe I do have a predisposition, are you looking to exploit it?” Angela asked, cautiously looking up at Moira.

“Exploit? I prefer to say charm.”

“And what do you intend?”

“I doubt either of us knows, really.”

They didn’t. Their future as murky as the ambitions of those around them.

Only one thing was clear, to their friends who watched from a distance.

“It didn’t work for her either,” Widowmaker said in full confidence, letting Sombra awkwardly jerk her around in vague time with the music.

“You sure, babe?” Sombra asked, peeking around her curiously, “What’re we going to do about it?”

“Nothing, for now,” Widowmaker whispered, pulling her closer, “Enjoy the night. Watching is all we can do anyways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why has virtually every overwatch fic i've ever written included a gala scene
> 
> why am i so obsessed with putting them in formal clothes
> 
> when will blizzard give us the formal event we need and deserve


	8. Mission Quite Possible

Field work. Akande was already assigning Angela field work. Experimentally and underneath the surveillance of both Moira and Reaper but still.

Angela looked sick to her stomach as she read over the paper handed to her by Moira, “But I’ve just barely been introduced to Talon… don’t they fear me running away?”

“Your collar,” Moira said, plastic clicking noise loud in Angela’s ears as her nail tapped on it.

“Right… keep forgetting that I have that on.”

“It’s honestly a bit disturbing how easy you forget about that.”

“Shush!” Angela chastised, “I’ve got too much on my mind to worry about that! Plus it’s always there and rarely a discomfort.”

Moira gently gripped her chin, making her look up, “Always grace under pressure. To an almost alarming degree. If you’d like to soothe my nerves, please take these things more seriously.”

It was hard to take anything seriously lately though, at least in a way . Ever since the night of the party Moira had become rather casual with her, to the point that it was all too easy for Angela to forget she was being held captive in the first place. As crazy as that sounds.

It hadn’t taken long for her to become accustomed to her new appearance. Deep down, she honestly thought it looked a bit… cool. The more she stared in the mirror, the more attached to her new look she became. That hadn’t gone without notice from Moira either who seemed deeply relieved by that change.

Angela was still allowed to sleep in Moira’s room with her, squeezed into pajamas that were simultaneously too long and too tight on her. Not that she was ungrateful. She did hope to be able to buy some new clothes for herself soon though.

But days of being downright flirted with, doubling up with nights falling asleep next to her made Angela feel like she was, strangely enough, at home pressed against Moira’s side every waking and unwaking moment.

It was like before but something had changed. Not just their surroundings. Where there’d been play flirting back in Overwatch that was an extremely common occurrence. Everyone did that with their friends there.

Now when Moira flirted with her it felt… more serious. Substantial.

Angela liked it, despite everything.

However, the impending mission was something bringing her back to the cold reality.

“This is… bad,” Angela said, reading over the details. They were to steal some blueprints from a semi-abandoned Overwatch watchpoint. Nobody left in there but a few ex-Overwatch agents who were essentially squatting in the place. No big ones, just a few little guys who most likely would scatter at the sight of them.

Especially since... 

Moira tapped the paper, “Gabriel is coming with us. We’ll be fine.”

No one would dream of crossing Reaper.

“No one will get hurt?”

“Don’t ask me to make promises I cannot ensure I’ll keep, Angela.”

“I’ll ask what I please.”

With a laugh at her joke, Moira flicked her in the forehead, “Always the brat. Come with me, I have a surprise for you.”

Following after her into one of the branching off rooms, Angela found herself looking at a blackened display case. A familiar yet twisted image bursting into the light as Moira flicked the switch.

Her new Valkyrie suit. Reverse engineered, she imagined.

But where hers had been white and yellow, the one staring her down was black, white and a blood red. Like all of the Talon uniforms she’d seen. A dark angel, glowing in the light.

“I imagine the aesthetic is a bit less to your liking but they like us to look uniform, more professional. Akande likes everything to fit together nicely.”

“It could be worse,” Angela sighed, “At least I can keep my silhouette.”

“Caring about your appearance, even as a captive.”

“I have little else, let me have that much.”

\- - -

Back when Gabriel had just been Gabriel, Angela had never quite understood how his enemies found him scary.

She’d always been aware he was a big dude with big guns but he’d always carried himself with a aura that just screamed that he was your “cool uncle” who has a motorcycle and is always offering to take his nieces and nephews for rides to the chagrin of their parents.

It was a very accurate aura considering the time she’d watched him helping Fareeha up on his Harley, stopped only by Ana bolting out of the building like a bat out of hell.

But now that he was Reaper, Angela wondered if this was what his enemies had always seen.

It was intimidating when he had the mask on, slightly mangled appearance hidden. Eyes looking somewhere but she could only make guesses at where. Strapped tightly into the plane next to her, tapping one of his claws on the plastic of the belt of the plane.

Not talking. She missed the talking. The biggest difference, really.

Luckily, Moira seemed intent on making this trip a chattier one as she adjusted her own seat belt, “Just like old times, yeah?”

“She didn’t come with us back then,” Reaper nodded towards Angela dismissively.

“Well, now she is,” Moira replied, “Not sure why Akande decided we needed two medics…”

“You’re her keeper.”

“So I’m supervising then?”

“Pretty much,” Reaper nodded, “Also, you know this watchpoint better than us.”

“Near my home back in Ireland,” Moira nodded, “Barely even a watchpoint. Small enclave. I think they always intended for me to eventually take over there.”

“You had other things on your plate…” Reaper grumbled, no question that his pointed gaze was boring into Moira’s skull.

“Gabriel, you’re not allowed to be angry at me for joining a terrorist organization when you’ve gone and joined the same one. That’s not how any of this works.”

“Just couldn’t live without being your coworker, I suppose.”

“Aw, you missed me,” Moira cooed.

“You just keep bringing people back,” Reaper pointed a clawed finger at Angela, “Did you miss her too, Angie? You like being back with her?”

With her. Angela wasn’t sure if he was angling at the old rumor about her and Moira. He’d assumed it was true back then. Everyone had.

She treaded carefully, “I always miss people when they leave.”

“Always sentimental,” Moira laughed, “How did we get so many sentimental folks in Overwatch?”

“Bad luck.”

“Oh don't act like you're so high and mighty, I remember what you did for McCree on his third mission.”

Angela chirped up at that, leaning forward as much as the belt would allow for, “What did he do for Jesse?”

Probably should have gone with last name. Whoops.

But before Reaper could say anything about that, Moira happily betrayed the old tale, “I’m surprised you never heard, McCree was always telling everyone who would hold still in Blackwatch.”

“I wasn’t in Blackwatch.”

“Good point,” Moira said, crossing her arms with a nod of her head towards Gabriel, “Well, McCree’s always been touchy about his hats. That one’s no Blackwatch secret. He was real attached to his first hat, from the Deadlock Gang.”

“Ugly fucking thing,” Reaper growled.

“That it was, but the boy loved it,” Moira said, “Had to physically restrain him from running off the plane picking us up when it was shot right off his head at the last second. Even with a hole in it, he wanted it back. Took just about all of Genji’s strength to keep him in place.”

“I remember when his hat came back with a hole in it,” Angela mused, “Yowling like a wounded animal.”

“I suppose you were around at that time, weren’t you?” Moira replied, “I forget that sometimes, considering they kept us separate for so many years.”

“Didn’t want to waste resources,” Reaper grumbled.

Returning to her story, Moira smiled, “Now regale us, Gabriel. How ever did poor young McCree get his hat back?”

Reaper was quiet for a second, metal claw tapping on the belt buckle more irritated but as time passed he knew they weren’t dropping it. Reluctantly he admitted, “I jumped off the plane and got it for him.”

“You gave him his new one too,” Moira replied with a wink, “Lied and told him and everyone it was from some old, barely used uniform back in the way. But that’s quite odd considering they only issued military style hats across the board.”

Reaper’s mask faced Moira then Angela before he sighed, “Yeah. Quite odd.”

“Grouchy old man,” Moira chastised, “You know you were practically their father.”

“Do you miss them?” came out of Angela’s mouth before she could even stop herself.

Dead silence as he gripped the seat belt in his iron grip, “Stick to the mission, Ziegler.”

And just like that, conversation had been extinguished for the rest of the trip. Moira giving her a slightly disapproving look but backing off quickly at Angela’s puppy dog pout.

But it made Angela wonder exactly how close everyone in Blackwatch had been.

\- - -

The first mission had gone over perfectly aside from some awkwardness between them. But as Moira predicted, every single one of the low ranking ex-Overwatch members scattered at the mere sight of Reaper.

Honestly, Angela’s bigger concern ended up being what they would say. She had no doubt in her mind that at least one of the scattering people would go out of their way to search out the reforming Overwatch. Telling them what happened.

And even in her new uniform, Angela’s silhouette was unmistakable.

Plus she’d seen the eyes of one of the men as she passed. A skinny guy, probably worked in their science department since she vaguely recognized him, whose eyes had only widened more at the sight of her.

Not even relaxing as she broke eye contact with him and didn’t report him being there to her Talon companions.

Akande was quite pleased when they returned, Moira and Reaper even giving Angela the honor of handing over the actual blueprints to him. Entire body being shaken as she shook his hand, thrown off by the wide smile with a genuine, “Well done.”

\- - -

Her second mission completely failed to launch. The day before she was set to go with Sombra and Moira on a mission to bug a smaller, out of the way watchpoint there was an accident.

Angela was honestly a bit surprised that the fall had knocked Sombra’s mechanical spine out of commission. Simply a stumble down a couple steps and landing a bit weird. They weren’t sure which part of it wasn’t working but considering Angela’s expertise in prosthetics, she was assigned to figure it out.

The mission was to go on without her. Moira and Reaper being set out alone to take advantage of the window they’d made.

“Heh, I know plenty of people who’d be jealous of you right now,” Sombra laughed as Angela helped her out of her tank top.

“I’m certain a charmer like you has many admirers.”

“Hey, keep talkin’ like that and I’ll think you’re one of ‘em.”

“Who says I’m not?” Angela teased, “I’m about to take off your bra and everything.”

Sombra only became more delighted by that, “Hey, hey, hey, if you get too flirty I’m gonna have to tell Moira. Now if you wanna talk jealousy…”

With some effort from both of them, they managed to get her turned around to lean up against the cool plastic of the examining chair. Face smushed into her own arms as she made herself a makeshift pillow with them as Angela unhooked her bra to get at the spine better.

“Not one to hide private affairs? I find that a bit surprising.”

“You’re a hell of a lot jokier than I thought you’d be,” Sombra looked back at her as she adjusted for comfort, “I like it. Thought you were gonna be all stuffy and serious like Moira ‘cause she always talked about how close you guys were.”

It didn’t go without note that Angela’s face immediately flared up bright red, “She… said that?”

“Ohhh, princesa, do you have a little crush?” Sombra tried to sit up but failed as her spine jerked her back down, “Ow.”

“Don’t squirm around,” Angela replied, pushing her back down, “You could make it worse.”

“There’s the serious women I expected,” Sombra griped as she felt Angela hold her in place as she opened up the mechanical spine.

Examining it, Angela found herself oddly happy with the enhanced vision even as confusion overtook her, “It’s a good thing you got this spine mostly external but I can’t see what’s causing this power failure…”

“You’re dodging my question,” Sombra sang back to Angela, “C’mon, you can tell me. What am I going to do?”

“I’ve only met you a few times and even I can tell you’re a gossip.”

“That’s true, that’s true,” Sombra was unable to contradict that, “But I already know considering I watched you dance with her at the party. Ain’t nobody look at someone like that platonically.”

“It’s… it’s none of your business…” Angela leaned in more, examining the prosthetic spine closer gently using a screwdriver to push small internet pieces around, “Nothing looks broken in here…”

“C’mon Ang, just a little bit of trust? Don’t you wanna be friends? I love making friends.”

Sombra jumped a little as Angela nearly slammed the screwdriver on the table, “Sombra! I barely know you.”

“Let’s change that? You tell me a secret, I’ll tell you one. Wanna know who I like?”

“Widowmaker.”

“That’s right! It’s Widowmaker! Now fess up!”

Sighing, Angela figured it didn’t really matter in the long run, “Fine. Maybe I have a bit of a crush.”

“On Moira?”

“On Moira.”

Sombra looked downright victorious, her right hand unseen by Angela as it called up floating purple keys, “I figured. Must be hard seeing an old flame again. Even under these… circumstances.”

“She’s not an old flame, we were never together back then,” Angela replied, doing little more than tightening a few bolts in the opened spine, “I may have had a crush then too but it never went anywhere.”

“That’s real interesting,” Sombra nodded, “Might be your chance now.”

Before Angela could reply to that the spine jumped to life. From her perspective, for no reason. From Sombra’s, she was just turning it back on remotely.

Stretching, Sombra relatched her bra as she twisted her spine around faux-experimentally as she relatched her bra, “Looks like that did the trick, doc!”

“I… I didn’t do anything?” Angela asked, mostly at herself as she looked down at the small screwdriver in her hand.

“I’m meeting Amélie,” Sombra cut her off, playfully jiggling her boobs at the woman by her bra straps and punctuating her sentence with a wink, “I’m gonna have fun tonight, maybe you should try to too. With Moira.”

Sombra barely got her tank top back on as she bounced out of the room, leaving a very confused Angela behind.

\- - -

Her third field mission became her second field mission, stepping out of the plane with simply herself and Widowmaker.

That part had been shocking for her, deeply surprised that Akande had allowed her out with only another indoctrinated Talon member. To supervise her. An amazing show of trust for Widowmaker, complete confidence that she wouldn’t run away.

It gave Angela a feeling that could only be described as hope. This could be her some day, let come and go as she pleased.

But… what would she do once that happened? She’d run, she supposed but the idea of doing that and leaving Moira behind left her way more conflicted than she wanted to admit. Perhaps she could convince Moira to come with her? Return to Overwatch? Were the woman seen as her savior, it could be a ticket back into their good graces. Would Moira agree?

“Hold onto me,” was the first thing Widowmaker said to her since they’d left Talon Headquarters together.

Surprised, Angela just asked dumbly, “What?”

With a ‘tch’ of annoyance, Angela found herself roughly grabbed around the waist. Jerked into the sky as Widowmaker shot out a grappling hook and sent them flying up to the rooftop.

A yelp of fear broke the night air, a hand slapped over her mouth after they had their feet under them, “Quiet. If you don’t raise your voice, we’ll be fine. Very high up.”

Angela cautiously followed Widowmaker to the edge of the building, a knot in her gut as she watched Widowmaker pull out her sniper rifle and begin to look around down below. It was a reconnaissance mission only, sniper only used for visibility.

Silence befell them for a long time, Angela not having much to do but lean against a fixture on the top of the building. Waiting.

Eventually, Widowmaker spoke, “Moira didn’t do it, did she.”

“W-what?” Angela stuttered, “Didn’t do what?”

“If she did, she failed, didn’t she? Like me?”

Immediately it snagged into place in Angela’s mind what Widowmaker meant. Angela was stunned by the confession, looking at the back of Widowmaker’s head. The woman dead still aside from the window blowing her long ponytail around gently. Not looking back at Angela for even a tick.

“But you-”

“It worked, at first,” Widowmaker answered her question before she even asked it, “And after Gérard was dead… who else would have me? I made a new home. I just have to play along.”

“How did you know-”

“You’re not subtle.”

That was true, Angela only had to shrug at that. Picking her words uncertain as she realized she’d never had to address a certain man by name, “Well, are you going to tell Mr. Ogundimu?”

At that, Widowmaker looked back at her with a bemused expression before replying, “I have never heard anyone call him that. That’s so weird.”

“I barely know him! Surely I can’t just call him ‘Akande’ like everyone else!”

“No, it’s good,” Widowmaker said, turning her head back to her scope, “Make sure to call him that around him. He finds you endearingly harmless. That will help.”

“So you’re not-”

“Why would I say anything? If he becomes suspicious of your loyalty that will only turn to me next. I greatly prefer to have others in my crosshairs to being in someone else’s. Don’t do that to me and we will be fine. There is only one thing that vexes me...”

Angela crouched next to her, “What?”

Again, Widowmaker looked up with her intense yellow eyes burning up at Angela in the moonlight, “What is Moira trying to accomplish here?”

Neither woman had an answer to that.


	9. Want You To Go, Want You To Stay

Angela scrutinized Moira’s face as she bent over the microscope, examining some random cultures she’d been messing with for a few days now.

Her conversation with Widowmaker had been enlightening. What exactly was it that Moira was trying to accomplish here with Talon? She wasn’t the sort to waste her time doing something she didn’t care about and she didn’t exactly seem terribly fussed about Akande’s agenda.

So why was she here? Failing to brainwash people, refusing to brainwash people.

Moira was a hard one to discern though, a woman who mostly kept her thoughts to herself.

When she works, she’s a bit more unguarded though. Hence, Angela staring at her while she fiddled with the dials of the device. Idly helping by reading and sorting files off to the side. Peering over them curiously. Flicking her eyes down whenever Moira looked up.

But Moira was far from unobservant or stupid. She knew Angela was watching her. More than usual, at least.

Moira couldn’t figure out why though.

Days passed by like this, Akande giving Angela a reprieve from any missions to work on some smaller projects for them. Nothing too fancy, just things like small, portable healing devices. Someone had seen Jack, or rather “Soldier: 76”, walking around with them and now Akande wanted them for the Talon grunts.

A simple task but a time consuming one. Akande wanted a few different designs to pick from before he picks one to distribute. Style was important to the man.

By the time they were sketching out designs, Moira scooted her chair next to Angela to peer over her shoulder, “Very functional, Angela. I’m surprised. You’ve never been a subtle woman.”

Angela tapped on it with her eraser, “I’m supposed to be a bit of a robot right now, aren’t I? Might be suspicious if it’s too stylish.”

“You’re overthinking it, my dear,” Moira said, “I think Akande would appreciate if you’d seemingly kept your design sense. He’s a man who appreciates art. You should see his personal quarters, he has some very expensive pieces hanging in there.”

“You’ve been in his personal quarters?” Angela asked.

“We have tea occasionally,” Moira nodded, “Well, we call it tea. It’s beer. He’s very determined to beat me in a drinking contest. Akande’s very upset that he’s can’t outdrink me being that he is… approximately five times? my size.”

“I didn’t take him for a drinker.”

“Oh, he’s not. He’s just very competitive.”

“Knew you were one though, do you remember those nights we’d spend together after every successful experiment?” Angela grinned, recalling long nights of emptying drink after drink. She preferred wine, Moira always stuck with her favorite imported beer from her home country.

“Remember? Of course not, I can only ever remember the aftermath of those nights,” Moira laughed, “Neither can you. Not really. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“That’s true, but remember how people started preparing in advance for those?”

“Of course I do. After we hid all the access cards and turned the whole Watchpoint into the world’s worst Easter egg hunt for like two weeks,” Moira dangled her Talon card.

Angela smiled mischievously, “Gabriel was so mad. Do you remember where we’d put his?”

“The broken toaster that Winston was keeping, adamant that he’d find time to fix it someday.”

“I thought he was never going to find it,” Angela snickered, “Practically strangled us with the lanyard when Winston found it.”

“And he’d only found it because he’d knocked it over by accident.”

Angela straightened up, puffing out her chest and doing her best Gabriel imitation, “O’Deorain. Ziegler. This was a serious breach of security, what if our enemies had gotten ahold of the access card of a high ranking Overwatch official? And off-the-books Overwatch official at that?”

“Probably didn’t help that we used the key to give it to him after hours.”

“We brought him the wine you didn’t drink! It’s not our fault he’s a party pooper. He poops at the parties,” Angela protested.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d seen the Blackwatch parties he’d thrown,” Moira chuckled, doodling a little stick person party on her paper, “He could be very wild, under the right circumstances. Very thorough about destroying any evidence of that though.”

“I mean, secrecy was Blackwatch’s whole thing… you’ve always been a bit of a mystery to me, if I’m honest.”

A gentle pry, Angela’s specialty. Paired with the observation… Moira was starting to wonder if Angela’s curiosity lately was more than just her odd little way of flirting.

“I’m a mystery because you never ask me any questions.”

“That’s not true! I-”

“You just prod and poke and hope something turns up, much like one of your experiments.”

Angela reluctantly nods, “That’s… that’s true…”

“Then consider it sometime,” Moira said, turning her designs towards Angela, “Now what do you think of these? A little more… your style.”

They were. Borderline obnoxious, a pointed wedge to drive into the ground with two wings sprouting from it. Healing radiating off it in a halo-like pattern. Very much Angela’s M.O, making her mouth turn up into a smile.

“It’s perfect, Moira.”

\- - -

It was a good time for Angela and Moire, for a while. A nice, uneventful week. Filled mostly with more benign flirting and casual experimentation.

Sometimes Akande would send Angela out on test missions but mostly he was interested in utilizing Angela’s medical and scientific expertise rather than turning her into purely a field operative.

Although, she knew she’d be spending time out there anyways. Eventually. Every Talon operative spent time out there, on missions suited to them.

But nothing good stays, as a curt knock on their door brought more bad news.

Opening it, Moira found herself looking up at the visitor, “Akande, you don’t venture this far down in the facility very often. How may I be of assistance?”

“I figured I could use the exercise,” Akande patted the non-existent fat on his stomach, “Besides, sometimes it’s nice to see the parts of the base I don’t get to visit very often. You’ve always been cagey about your territory.”

“So I’ve been told,” Moira looked back at Angela, pretending to sort things but slyly watching them carefully.

“Anyways, I’d like a word with you in private,” he nodded towards the seemingly unaware woman, “I’m sure you have a dozen offshoots, a private lab perhaps?”

Moira gestured for him to follow, noting the blanch on Angela’s face as they passed her.

She had to admit she was nervous too, it truly was unusual for Akande to be down here.

The room she took him into was nearly a storage room, a secondary lab for if anything should happen in the main lab to make it nonfunctional. Littered with countless unused containers and equipment. Neatly organized, by Angela’s hand actually.

As Akande closed the door behind them, Moira concerns were proven to be founded, “Moira, my friend, I’ve been meaning to cement a long term plan for further experimentation on Miss Ziegler.”

“I still think any further experimentation would be a waste of resources,” Moira debated, “She’s already much more durable-”

“More can always be done,” Akande said, picking up a test tube which looked comically small in his hand, “I’m really surprised by you lately. I never took you to be a sentimental sort when it comes to old acquaintances. Are you getting soft on me?”

“What are you implying?” Moira quirked an eyebrow.

Akande set the test tube back down with a clink, “I’m implying you’re letting your emotions get in the way of your work. It’s surprising.”

“I’m not-”

“You are.”

Moira’s nails tapped on the countertop, irritated. Akande’s tone was not one of a man who was playing around. You can told tell when he’d heard enough and you’d be a fool to directly contradict or confront him.

“We don’t…” Moira closed her eyes, “Akande, it’s unnecessary to modify her further. Emotions or not, we don’t need to do that to her.”

Akande sighed, hand on Moira’s shoulder, “You’re only human, I can’t and won’t judge you for your attachments. However, I also won’t allow you yourself any special permissions. I need you to do your job, Moira. Feelings aside.”

“Of… of course,” Moira was uncharacteristically quiet, “Whatever you say.”

“I’ll give you some time but we really need to get our ducks in a row, as they say. Please bring your plan to my office in the next week or two so we may discuss. Maybe tell me beforehand, I’ll order creme brulee for us.”

One of the few things Moira would gorge herself on. Akande always knew everyone’s weaknesses. He patted her a few times before walking past her and nodding politely at Angela as he passed.

She smiled vacantly at him with a chipper, “Good morning, Mr. Ogundimu!”

Akande smiled widely at that. Sombra was right, he liked that. As his hand was on the doorknob he replied, “Please, call me Akande.”

With that, he departed. The second the door closed behind him, Angela was upon Moira. Just as she exited the sideroom, “What did he want?”

Sighing, Moira lifted a piece of Angela’s whitened fair with a finger, “Akande wants a plan written up for my further experiments with you.”

Her mouth was a straight line, eyes downcast, “I… I figured it would be something like that.”

“This time will you please work with me on this?” Moira asked.

“No, this… I feel it’s better if I don’t know.”

\- - -

The entire day for Angela was just being badgered with requests to assist Moira in picking what she wanted modified for herself. She only became more resistant when Moira brought up that Akande was certain to expect something flashier, more extravagant.

Despite this, Moira still found Angela picking at her. There was something else she wanted, some tidbit of information that was within herself that Angela wanted to know.

She didn’t stop prying even as Moira kept turning it into asking her about the modifications.

Night fell, relayed to them only by the clock silently ticking away.

As they’d grown accustomed to they changed into pajamas back to back. Science pun t-shirts, baggy pajama pants. Fitting Moira perfectly, being too long on Angela. She often found herself stumbling over the edges of the pants, hoping that in the future she could potentially buy herself some more fitting clothes. Get some nice shorts to sleep in.

It was one small comfort to Angela, whenever she slid into the bed. Moira could be a bit bare bones and functional in many places but the quality of her bedding was not a place she skimped.

Lying next to Moira was usually rather tranquil too but after about ten minutes of darkness the silence was broken, “Angela?”

“Yes?” she replied, never being one to fall asleep quickly.

“You’ve been prodding. I’ve been prodding back to try and figure it out but… asking seems like a more pragmatic choice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t play dumb, Angela. It’s not cute.”

Moira wasn’t sure if Angela was going to speak as the seconds passed but eventually she heard a sigh.

“I was talking to Widowmaker.”

“About?”

“You.”

“Well, aren’t we a well of information?” Moira replied, “Perhaps you could indulge me in exactly what you two were saying about me? Never took Widowmaker for the gossiping type.”

“You… you know she’s not brainwashed anymore, don’t you?” Angela chanced.

It was Moira’s turn to go quiet, “Did she tell you that?”

“Yes, she could tell I wasn’t indoctrinated either. For her, it had worn off over time. Too intimately acquainted with it to be fooled into thinking I had been afflicted with it. So she told me about it, wanting to know… why? Neither of us think it was a mistake, you’re too careful to have allowed your work to fade over time.”

“You are… correct.”

Angela cautiously continued, “Why did you allow Widowmaker to regain her free will?”

“I won’t pretend I’m a good person,” Moira explained, fingers arched in the dark on her stomach, “But… I’m not a fan of absolute control. Never been a proponent of it. Overwatch wanted to control me. I wasn’t looking to control someone else.”

“But you did, initially…”

“I cannot oppose Akande, he’s the only thing that collars me anymore and he doesn’t pull the leash often. So I have to respect what few demands he does make of me. Keep me in his good graces.”

“Letting it wear off though…”

“It was a gamble,” Moira admitted, “I put it all on Widowmaker choosing to stay after killing her husband. I hit the jackpot though, she has.”

Angela stared into the dark, “So a hope she’d choose to stay…”

“Because she’d have nowhere else to go.”

“Exactly…” Angela mumbled, “And me… are you banking on me staying? After this is all over?”

Another silence, even longer now, hung in the night air.

Angela could hear Moira shifting next to her, flopping slightly towards her as she pushed herself up. Feeling a clawlike hand gripping her waist and pulling Angela even closer, looming over her close enough that she could feel her breathing.

A kiss on the lips, a hand on her jawline, “I don’t want you to go but I don’t want you stay even more.”

“H-how come?” Angela stuttered dumbly, holding onto Moira’s wrist in a sort of shock, keeping her close.

“Because you don’t want to be here.”

“Well… I am. For now. Maybe… maybe let’s just enjoy the now?”

Feeling her way through the dark, Angela eventually managed to gently grab the sharp angles of Moira’s jawline and pull her back down into a much deeper kiss. Long shifting limbs, Moira’s thin frame pressing against her, pinning her.

Angela wrapping her admittedly a bit thick legs around Moira’s waist, holding her tightly against herself. Not that Moira would ever find herself even mildly objecting to Angela’s very delightfully bottom heavy frame.

Their contrast stark as they pressed against each other with wild urgency.

For the rest of the night they just let themselves forget all about the future, all the things they had to worry about moving forward, what would become of them.

\- - -

The smell of belgian waffles woke the both of them up, early in the morning.

It had never been uncommon for Moira to wake up to food left for her. She was always known to have an odd sleep schedule, sleeping in late.

Akande has always insisted that the staff leave her food, should she still be seemingly sleeping.

They supposed it was a good thing the prison where Angela should be help isn’t visible from the door.

Especially as right now she currently had a face full of vibrant red hair pressed into her face, feeling rather like she’d woken up to a house fire. Moira lying on her chest, a face full of boob. Angela was a bit jealous, albeit Moira was a bit less… endowed as herself.

Moira’s true elegance was in full effect now though, impossibly long limbs a mix of tightly twisted around her and draped long across the bed. Leaving Angela trapped and free at the same time. Fitting.

Gentle nudges weren’t enough, shaking Moira a bit, “Moira? Breakfast is here.”

“I know…” grumbled sluggishly out of her mouth, eyes still closed, “I just don’t want to move…”

Angela couldn’t blame her but the rumbling in her stomach must be thunderous to Moira, “Breakfast in bed then? I need it at least.”

Reluctantly, Moira gave up her grip and let Angela slide out of the bed to retrieve the food. What was that old saying? Hate to see her go, love to watch her leave? Only magnified as Angela certainly hadn’t bothered to put her discarded pajamas back on.

Returning wasn’t a bad view either, Angela carrying the platter in with a bit a surprised look on her face.

Setting the plate on the edge of the bed, Moira could see why.

There were two breakfasts. Real ones.

A complete absence of gruel.

“My, you’re having a good morning aren’t you? Looks like Akande’s instructed them to start treating you as an agent rather than a prisoner.”

Angela smiled at that, glad she no longer would be picking off of Moira’s plates, “So, I’m a part of your team now, I assume?”

“As far as Akande is concerned, I believe so.”

She was quiet for a second before looking up at Moira, “I’m sure whatever modifications you do to me from here going forward will be gorgeous.”

\- - -

Despite what Angela said, she’d been nervous when she felt herself waking up again, several weeks later. God knows what done to her. Curiously, finding herself lying facedown on an operation chair. The same that she’d checked Sombra’s spine on.

Speaking of, her own spine was aching. Just slightly. Nothing compared to the weird, heavy weight she felt on her shoulder blades.

“Are you up?” Angela heard as she felt Moira’s hand touch the back of her neck. Ice cold, the right one.

Angela nodded, “Yes, should I… should I try to get up?”

“With my help, yes.”

The second Moira helped hoist Angela to her feet she nearly fell backwards. Jumping at the large, white shape that nearly enveloped her.

Looking at it properly, Angela immediately knew what Moira had done.

Standing upright was a bit hard but with some effort Angela did as she experimentally stretched out the large feathery wings now affixed to her back.

Relief flooded into Moira as she watched Angela clumsily walk over to the mirror and examine her new appendages, looking quite happy with them. Posing with them awkwardly, nearly falling over a few times with the strange, added weight.

“They’re perfect, Moira.”


	10. The Skies Above

Shielding her eyes, Angela flinched as the harsh sunlight she’d grown so unaccustomed to crashed into her.

Stepping off the plane, Angela found herself blinded and escorted by Moira towards a small but rather quaint house in the distance that she could barely see for the dazzling light. Eyes growing accustomed, she looked around. The cottage was far from the neighbors, just barely visible in the distance. Gorgeous green on the path to it and all around them, as far as the eye could see. And Angela’s enhanced eyes could see quite far.

Looking back at the plane, Angela mused over how even now they kept the Talon Headquarters location a secret from her, opting instead to ship her and Moira to the Irish countryside to give her wings a test drive for the first time. Moira hadn’t said anything but Angela had a feeling the woman was feeling a bit homesick as well.

Angela had a feeling that house in the distance belonged to the woman whose arm she clung to.

Not one to leave things in the dark, she asked, “Is that yours?”

“My summer home, yes. Don’t get many chances to come back here but when I do… a nice break.”

“Why ARE we here?” Angela asked, “I’m certainly not complaining, it’s gorgeous here but a bit off from the missions they’ve been sending me on.”

“Simple. We needed somewhere nice and private for you to spread your wings, as they say. Except quite literally, in your case,” Moira tapped on the feathery things affixed to Angela’s back.

At that, Angela did just such. It was a weird feeling, the feathery wings extending, even though they weren’t biologically attached. Mechanical. Made to look organic. She’d gotten used to moving them, neurologically pathed to her brain, but hadn’t been able to fly in the cramped quarters of the Talon Headquarters.

Of course, she knew that’s what they were doing here, “A place to try my flight capabilities.”

“Absolutely, we couldn’t exactly have you awkwardly flapping about over the Talon Headquarters. Might be a bit of giveaway where we are. Also, I’d rather my experiments not have an audience. All of Talon above ground, gawking at you.”

“Are you worried they won’t work?” Angela grabbed one gently, examining it, “I’ll look quite a fool if they don’t.”

“I have full confidence in their functionality,” Moira quirked an eyebrow at her.

As the plane took off again, leaving them alone, they reached the door. Pushing it open, Angela found the inside to be a contradiction. The homey, traditional build of the home was evident, its natural state, but twisting all around were advanced electronics. Moira’s scientific equipment, looking out of place in a stone-and-wood home.

It was endlessly endearing though in its oddness. Form meets function, old meets new.

And most important to Angela, despite its scientific leanings it looked like an actual home.

“Oh, Moira it’s lovely in here,” Angela cooed, letting her hand run over a woven blanket with a twisting pattern on it, “Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t insisting on living out here. If I owned this place, I’d never want to leave.”

“I never do,” Moira sighed, setting their bag down on the wooden table with a creak, “If it were up to me, I’d run my operations out of here. Expand the underground lab. But Akande likes to keep his enemies close and his friends even closer. Doesn’t even like that we’re out here now, for what will be little more than a weekend trip.”

At that, Moira hooked a finger for Angela to follow her outside.

Right to business, as she is.

Stepping out, Angela felt a cool breeze brush against her face. Closing her eyes, she found herself almost excited to get to try this out.

“It should feel pretty intuitive, your history with your Valkyrie suit taken into account,” Moira explained, “A bit of reverse engineering with that is what will help you get off the ground and stay off the ground. A bit of flapping but less than you’d expect.”

“Of course, a little help but not too much. Flapping and gliding allows for power retention, reduces the amount used to keep me airborne. Longer flights, less overheating.”

“Always was an issue with your Valkyrie suit,” Moira nodded, “And considering this one is incorporated into your body, want to reduce the stress it’ll have on your back and shoulders.”

“Any tips?” Angela said, looking to the skies.

“Getting a running start, leap, flap and hope for the best.”

Vague but enough. Looking away from Moira, Angela squinted for a second before she started running. Her gait awkward with the additional weight of the wings, extended and tousled by the wind. But beginning to glide anyways, Angela leapt.

A familiar yellow light projected her up, beyond her leap. The flight of the Valkyrie suit familiar but different as the rushing wind whipped her feathers around wildly.

The same result either way though, Angela was flying. Free flying.

Green grass grew further and further away as she flapped her wings to get more altitude, flying easily higher than she ever had before. Even chasing after Fareeha, the woman had always stay closer to the ground when Angela was there.

Experimentally turning in the air, Angela got a better look below her.

Moira was barely a speck in the distant sea of green below her, visible only by the shock of bright red hair.

Angela knew she shouldn’t stay up here, should return to below, but damned if she didn’t WANT to stay up here. Closing her eyes she felt the wind on her face again and knew she had to again.

But she also knew that this was something she could do again and again.

Landing was her only problem now.

Starting her descent she made sure to give wide berth to the singular building and its occupant. Always had been quite good at the landings, her touchdown impeccable.

Clapping in the distance, growing closer, Moira called out to her, “Well, someone’s a natural.”

\- - -

It was unsurprising how many weird looks they got as they walked into town, arm-in-arm.

The drive had been a bit long, Moira’s cottage really out in the middle of nowhere, and the village they’d eventually come to was quite small, certainly having never seen anything like the fallen angel who’d just started walking down their cobblestone street.

Granted, the wings hadn’t come with. Removeable, although she’d been mostly leaving them on in order to become used to them.

The borrowed shirt from Moira jutted out at odd angles though. Despite the wings being about to be removed, the mechanics that allowed them to attach to her back wasn’t. One stuck out a few inches out, over each shoulder blade, making it look like she was still smuggling something under there.

This was the first time Angela had been out in public for non-work reasons.

Baggy green shirt hung off her shoulder, Angela had never been a fan of that color on herself but they were here to fix that.

It was a small boutique they stepped into but Angela had to admit she rather liked the theme. Ireland’s heavy Catholic leaning going in her favor, so many of the clothes having vaguely religious, angelic themes.

The woman behind the cashier was looking at her like a demon though, although she didn’t say a word as Angela and Moira started pawing through her wares.

“You’re going to have to do a bit less fitted than you previously preferred,” Moira said, pulling out a loose, open backed shirt, “Unless you’re looking to cut holes in the backs. Any sewing skills?”

“Not a touch, unless you count doing stitches. Same as you do. We do have Gabriel though.”

“Very true,” Moira doubted the man would mind, “Hell, the man would design you some new personalized clothes if you batted your eyes and asked nicely.”

“Perhaps we should? When we get back?” Angela said, gently reaching out and touching the shirt Moira dangled in front of her.

“Perhaps,” Moira nodded, handing it to her, “For now, we need something a touch less… ill fitting or a uniform. Maybe even enjoy this trip a little bit.”

They didn’t stay there long, paying for clothes which Angela wore right out of the shop. White, baggy, a set of golden angel wings on the front. The shirt left her upper back open to reveal the metal ends of the prosthetics sticking out which was jarring to see but much more comfortable for the woman.

White jeans, golden shoes. A nice new white scrunchie. She felt quite stylish, much more comfortable in her skin than she had since capture. No plain white hospital dress, no uniform. Just some clothes. Only the collar on her neck serving as a reminder to her captured state. Luckily, it could pass for a choker necklace.

Hanging off Moira’s arm only made it better, resting her chin against her thin upper arm even though it was jostling her around a bit with their uneven paces.

Angela didn’t care though she was enjoying just a touch of getting to be normal girlfriends on a date.

In her other hand she had an ice cream cone, cookies and cream. In Moira’s hand, mint chocolate chip. The park they’d walked into was a lovely one too. Small but many flowers had been planted, dogs and children running around together as parents watched on.

Of course, they also stared at the odd looking and unfamiliar woman walking around but she didn’t care too much.

“So, we're staying here until Monday?” Angela asked.

“Should be, I’d like to push for longer but Akande was… reluctant about this trip to say the least.”

“You seem to be close to Akande,” Angela carefully prodded, “But it doesn’t seem like he trusts you very much.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a lack of trust more than a fear of losing people,” Moira watched a dog bolt past, little blonde girl in hot pursuit, “It’s a dangerous profession we have. He’s lost people and he doesn’t like it, it’s made him a bit… clingy.”

“What happened to them?”

“Attacks, arrested. Some dead, some alive but captured.”

Angela rolled her eyes up at Moira, “Does he not see the irony in capturing others?”

“He is aware of his hypocrisy, he simply doesn’t care.”

Gently lifting the sleeve of her shirt, Angela asked, “Do you think he’ll be fine with my new clothes?”

“He’ll be fine, he’s been talking about allow you a salary soon,” Moira replied, “You’re progressing along nicely, in his eyes.”

That certainly raised Angela’s heart, shyly smiling, “What of the collar then?”

“It… should not be long,” Moira replied, slowly but confidently, “You’ve been dazzling him so far, should you keep it up… I imagine you’ll have your freedom soon.”

Freedom. Angela knew Moira meant beyond simply the collar’s removable. The possibility of leaving was just on the horizon. Angela knew it and Moira knew it but neither of them wanted to acknowledge it.

But Angela did, “You… you could come back with me.”

“I can’t and you know it,” Moira shook her head and patted Angela’s hand, “To think otherwise is a misguided pipe dream, dear.”

“Overwatch is about second chances.”

“I’ve used up all of mine,” Moira replied, looking at a bird singing above the branch they were passing under, “I’m on my fourth or fifth, at least. Besides, weren’t you unsatisfied there yourself?”

“I could be happier there if you were there with me,” Angela nuzzled into her arm before giving it a peck, “I could be happy anywhere with you.”

A dark thought twisted in Moira’s gut but she bit back her words, “I wouldn’t ask that of you. You always have to think of yourself before others.”

“Big words coming from someone who put her job and life on the line to keep me safe.”

“Do as I say not as I do.”

\- - -

It was so peaceful that night, just two women alone in a cottage out in the middle of nowhere.

Lying on their backs in the front lawn, they looked up at the starry sky above them.

“It’s sort of strange,” Angela mused.

“What is?” Moira rolled her head over.

“If I wanted to, I could be closer to the stars. If only in an infinitesimally small capacity, just fly around up there.”

“Well, you should try to fly at night if you’d like for me to help you get your wings on.”

“Tempting,” Angela said, thinking about the metal pressing only slightly uncomfortably into her back, “But I’d be up there without you.”

“You can always come back down for me afterwards, if you’re so inclined to go for a fly.”

“That’s true,” Angela nodded, “Let’s do it.”

Within a few minutes the wings were latched in and they were back outside looking up at the sky. Moira was slightly cautious, “Perhaps be a little bit more careful this time. Fly low.”

“No risk, no reward.”

“And you used to chastise me for my recklessness.”

Again, Moira watched Angela take off with remarkable ease. This time twisted above her a bit more complicated as she grew used to this change in her flight. Untethered, more affected by the wind. Adapting quickly though.

Zooming quickly, swooping slower, doing a loop. Moira felt conviction in her choice, truly a perfect pick for Angela.

Speaking of Angela, she seemed to be testing something. Gliding low, near the grass. Slowly, before flapping back high.

In just a couple more minutes it became obvious to her as Angela only started doing that closer and closer before eventually wapping into Moira before she could dodge. Roughly managing to grab enough of Moira to get her off the ground with her. Arm clamped tightly around her waist.

Helped greatly by Moira’s absolute death grip around her shoulders as she yelled, “What are you doing?!”

I mean, that was obvious on the surface level as the two glided low to the ground but more of a silent demand of ‘don’t you fucking dare fly any higher! or put me down! putting me down is preferrable!’

“Oh calm yourself!” Angela laughed as her too-blonde hair whipped wildly around her face, “I’m not going any higher! Enjoy the ride!”

“A warning, perhaps, would have been nice!” Moira clung harder, hooking a leg at an awkward angle around Angela’s waist, “You’ve barely flown alone!”

Angela only laughed as she felt the thin woman’s heart race against her own chest, planting a kiss on her cheek, “And yet! Everything is going perfectly!”

That Moira had to concede. As initial panic wore off, she simply took it in. They were gliding low enough to the ground that their feet were brushing against the taller patches of grass whenever Angela bobbed as she flapped her wings. The breeze was cool, almost broaching upon cold but not quite hitting it. The moonlit field and her cottage in the near distance a beautiful sight, a sea of green sprinkled with white light. Stars above twinkling bright, free from being near a city.

Relaxing her grip she made one more demand, “If you do this again, at least do me the favor of picking me up bridal style.”

“You have a deal,” Angela chirped.

\- - -

Moira was not accustomed to being woken up by a massive faceful of feathers and mechanical bits underneath smacking her in the face but that was where she found herself.

Pushing them off of her with a sputter, Moira tried to sit up. Unconscious but obliging, Angela rolled over again. Wings falling over to the other side, still attached to her back. Cannot be comfortable, Moira somewhat wondered how the women was even sleeping like that.

Reaching over, Moira hit the release on them. One clunk, two clunks, both dropped to the ground harmlessly. There. Let the woman get settled.

Immediately Angela’s face relaxed a bit more, smiling.

Sliding out of bed, Moira’s feet hit the cold ground. Morning air was always chilly here and she certainly hadn’t bothered with getting pajamas on after their… canoodling.

Never one for robes either, making her peace with just walking around nude as she picked up the wings and folded them carefully. Carrying them over to their box, gently pushing them into place so she could snap it shut.

Returning to the bedroom, Angela hadn’t moved a single inch. Still out cold, she was half wrapped up in blanket and half exposed to the cold morning air.

Stepping carefully over the discarded clothes on the ground, Moira rolled onto the bed next to her.

Still not waking up, Angela scooted over towards her. Moira enveloping her, arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer.

Normally, some part of Moira always wanted to get back to her work when she relaxed in this cabin. If not at Talon Headquarters then the small but functional lab underneath the cottage would do.

For once, like this, Moira felt at peace though.

Even as the prosthetics in Angela’s back prodded into her arm, nearly uncomfortably.

But for Moira, this is the closest she’s had to a normal life in a long, long time.

Kissing the sleeping Angela on the forehead, she knew it would end. Hopefully, for Angela’s sake, soon. The best Moira could get was to savor small moments like this in the now.

She dreaded returning to Headquarters on Monday.

Just another step towards the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Mercy's wings weren't going to be something removable but as I started writing this chapter it just seemed more practical. Still found an excuse for Mercy to smack Moira in the face with them during the night. Well, the morning I guess lol.


	11. Entangled

Returning to Talon it was hard for Angela to remain contained. From the very moment they returned from their trip she was walking on air. Practically skipping past the underling who came to take their bags.

Between the new clothes and the new attitude, once again Angela was the talk of Talon.

But the rumors had mutated. So suspicious, the woman had gone off with Moira to a quite romantic little town and come back dressed like a normal woman and cheery.

Always one to keep a finger on the pulse of his organization, it wasn’t long before those rumors met Akande’s ears. Of course, the man had begun to suspect something was up with Angela long ago. He just didn’t know what.

And Akande Ogundimu is not a man who enjoys not knowing exactly what is going on.

It wasn’t just Angela either. Widowmaker. He’d been surveying her closely for a long time and things were always just slightly… off. Moira claimed both were allowed to keep some sort of personality without it being a threat but he wasn’t certain.

When the note arrived in the lab, Moira was in a state.

Flapping it against Angela’s forehead she admonished her, “My dear, you’ve made yourself a bit inconspicuous, haven’t you?”

“What are you talking about?, waving it away before snatching it, Angela read over the note quietly. An invitation for her to have a private dinner with Akande and, more troubling, Widowmaker. Her words quiet, “Moira… this… this couldn’t go south could it?”

“Do you want the harsh truth or the sugarcoated lie?”

“May I have the sugarcoated lie first?”

“Oh no, my dear, nothing will go wrong! You’ll have a lovely dinner and maybe you’ll go dancing afterwards!”

“Now the harsh truth, please.”

“You’re in danger and you’ll have to tread so, so softly to survive.”

Placing the letter down, Angela pressed her fingers tightly against her skull, “What should I do, Moira?”

“Play the part of an indoctrinated little waif and if he doesn’t fall for it… well, it wouldn’t be the worst backup plan to play up our relationship. Love can make a person behave foolishly, he might believe you willing to stay for that alone. Although I imagine he’d question me about that as well…”

“Do you… do you think that would work?” Angela peeked up through her claws.

“Not terribly but a shot in the dark is better than not pulling the trigger at all.”

\- - -

Two sets of sensible heels tapped loudly as the women walked side by side. Both dressed nice but modestly.

Angela had thought the comfy cream colored turtleneck could be a comfort in this but despite it’s warm her heart was still beating frozen blood throughout her body. Looking at the woman next to her, she supposed this was her natural state.

If it was, Widowmaker didn’t show it. Yellow eyes staring straight ahead, simple black dress hanging off her.

Angela had a feeling that Widowmaker thought this meeting was her fault.

But if she blamed her, the woman was showing no outwards signs of it. Only giving her a single look right before they approached the door. Not one of anger though. One of fear. Unsure of it it would help, Angela placed a hand on her frozen forearm. The curt nod she got in return was inscrutable.

Together, they pushed open the door to the dining hall.

Massive, sonorous was the room, big long table almost comically set up for only three. Right at the head, Akande sitting in the biggest chair with the two on each side set up for them. Three perfectly cooked cornish game hens waited for them, surrounded with a plethora of potatoes and greens. Angela tried not to drool.

“Miss Ziegler, Miss Lacroix, have a seat,” Akande smiled widely, a hand gesturing at each chair.

Minding her manners, Angela and Widowmaker said nearly in unison, “Thank you, Akande.”

“You’re perfectly welcome,” Akande finally cut into his food with vigor, “Please, eat.”

Unless she was crazy, it certainly seemed like Akande smiled at Angela’s own eagerness mirroring his. Widowmaker opposite the both of them, cutting off the smallest bite before neatly chewing with her mouth shut. Well, Akande was also chewing with his mouth shut. Angela was uh, failing to do so consistently.

Akande addressed Widowmaker first, pausing long enough to ask her, “Miss Lacroix, I believe you were in charge of quite a large assassination this weekend. The target is dead so I mean, surely you’ve done your job but did you have any difficulties?”

“It was a simple target. A man of habit, always on his balcony at 8PM. Easy.”

“Excellent work, as always. What I’ve come to expect from you, you’ve never let me down. I expect that to continue,” he said, leaving both unsure of it that was a threat or a simple statement.

Either way, Widowmaker ducked her head into a nod, “Of course. I am simply the best at what I do.”

“That you are! I’ve been thinking about your pay lately. An increase is in order, I think. I’d be a fool to devalue my best assassin, wouldn’t I?”

If Widow was affected by this news at all, she didn’t show it, “Thank you, Akande.”

Angela managed to keep perfectly calm and emotionless as she watched Akande’s gaze swept to her, “And Miss Ziegler. You got a bit of a vacation, didn’t you? Quite early on too. How did you like the beautiful Irish countryside?”

She tried to keep her description a bit technical and removed, yet detailed enough to sate his curiosity. Moira had claimed that her technique had been improved to preserve a bit more of her personality after all, “Everything was such a beautiful, brilliant shade of green. I could have stayed in those fields forever.”

“I take it your test flight went well then too?” Akande asked, leaving Angela acutely aware of the metal jutting from her back and forming two lumps under the back of her sweater.

“Yes, flight was quite intuitive. I had no problems taking off, mid flight or landing.”

“And I see you and Moira took the liberties of getting you some… normal clothes, shall we say?” Akande gently pinched the long sleeve, “They suit you.”

“There was a boutique in the town nearby,” Angela replied simply, pushing the food around on her plate a little, “Moira figured it was time for me to… reintegrate.”

“Well, your new clothes are quite cute,” Akande replied, ‘cute’ feeling like a foreign word on the stern man’s tongue, “If you’d like, we could get an official bank account and paycheck going for you. I think you’ve earned it.”

Now that, that shocked Angela who was unable to hide her surprise, “Oh! Yes, yes that would be… perfect.”

Reign in that enthusiasm, Angela.

Akande didn’t seem to mind though, chuckling, “Eager, aren’t you? Just keep proving yourself to me and there will be more where that came from. As you’ve seen with Miss Lacroix, we take care of our own. No matter how they were acquired.”

“Thank you, Akande,” Angela politely nodded her head.

But deep down, she wondered what his game was.

\- - -

When she and Widowmaker stepped out of the meeting with a slam of the door behind them, both sighed heavily. Normal for Angela but a rare show of emotion for Widowmaker.

Angela was only allowed respite for a second before she found her arm grabbed and wrapped around Widow’s crooked elbow as the woman started dragging her along, “Come with me, mon petit oiseau.”

“Alright,” Angela replied, despite the obvious lack of choice she had in the matter.

It seemed like they were thousands of feet underground, deeper than Angela had ever been in the personal quarters sector. Idly, Angela wondered if Akande would want her to move here or would he be willing to build her a room into the labs too?

Eventually, they arrived at the door emblazoned with “Widowmaker” on its golden plaque.

Stepping in, the best way to describe the room was “opulent.” Rich purple and red, cut with perfectly pitch black. Everything. A villainesses lair, Angela felt out of place in her light, neutral clothes. Especially as Widow instructed her to fit on a velvety sofa before sliding around a bar.

Widow hadn’t asked, she’d simply placed a white wine in front of Angela when she returned. The red in her hand being gently swirled as she sat down on an elaborate armchair.

It was an accurate pick, Angela’d always preferred white. Sipping it she had to confess her confusion though, “Thank you. Not that I’m ungrateful but you don’t seem like the sort of invite people back to your room for a drink…”

“I wanted to talk to you in private,” Widowmaker looking around the room, “Most of this place is, if you’ll ignore the puns that could come from my phrasing, bugged. But not in here.”

“Why not in here? Surely Akande doesn’t trust you THAT much.”

“Akande doesn’t know,” Widowmaker averted her gaze, “A little ghost took care of it for me…”

“Sombra…” Angela whispered, ”But how has Akande not noticed?”

“Some sort of loop and clip manipulation, I have to admit I’ve just left that up to her. Whatever she is doing, she is doing a good job hiding it. Although, you probably shouldn’t stay here too long. I’m fairly certain whatever Sombra does relies on nobody but her coming into my room.”

Angela nodded sharply, “Yes, of course, what did you want to- Sombra comes to your room a lot?”

Distracted by gossip, making Widow roll her eyes, “Do not flit about, surely it is a bit obvious that me and Sombra are… entangled.”

“Is that what we’re calling it nowadays?” Angela giggled behind her hand, “Entangled?”

“I wouldn’t tease about it if I were you, your own dalliances have not gone without notice,” Widowmaker tched at her, eyebrow cocked.

“So we’re both breaking the rules then,” Angela replied, unable to deny her and Moira, “Neither of us supposed to feel anything and yet we’re both with another member of Talon.”

“Are you staying then?” she asked, straightforward.

“I… don’t know.”

“What of Moira?”

“I don’t know…”

Widowmaker didn’t seem to know what to make of that but knew they have bigger fish to fry, “We cannot waste time on this idle gossip, I have a proposal for you. Akande is up to something, this dinner tonight was not a normal meeting. The problem is, we don’t know what.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Some. Could always be simply trying to bribe us into staying. Could be trying to see our reactions and gauge what to do next. Could be seeing if we’ll comply through fear and be ready to dispose of us if we don’t. It could be a myriad of things.”

“What do you think we should do about it then?” Angela asked.

“Akande speaks of nearly everything to Gabriel,” Widow gestured a mask, “All we need to do is keep tabs on them for long enough. Between you, me, Moira and Sombra I believe we’ll be able to figure it out.”

“Are you insinuating we spy on them?”

“I am.”

\- - -

Silently, the two women met in the darkened hallway.

Most of the facility was shut down for the night, all the service corridors silent and empty.

But these two women had a mutual prey to stalk. Gabriel was always a night owl and his meetings with Akande were too. The four women had taken turns, travelling in odd sets of two to avoid suspicion.

Tonight was the originators of the plan. Angela and Widowmaker.

What Akande’s plans were with them were yet a mystery, although they’d yet to catch the two in a terribly private conversation. Mostly tailing after them as they left meetings but nothing of note. It had only been about a week though, far too early to give up.

Their clothes were the middle point of casual and stealthy. Dark colors, comfortable clothes. Being on a mission while trying to look like they weren’t on a mission.

Arm in arm, the two of them followed instructions from an earpiece in Widow’s ear. Sombra’s one constant involvement, helping locate their leaders through the various security cameras. As soon as they’d made contact the woman was sure to find other amusement though.

Twisting through the corridors, eventually they reached the catwalk high above an auditorium. Why Akande was meeting Gabriel here was a mystery but it was where Sombra had directed them.

With a clatter and a ‘merde!’ Angela nearly yelped as Widowmaker grabbed her arm roughly, nearly pulling both of them off the thin catwalk.

It wasn’t a mystery the cause as Angela watched Widow quickly right herself, standing too close to the edge she was teetering on. Dark metal against the dim light, it hit Angela that to Widowmaker’s un-enhanced sight she might as well be walking on faith, trust and pixie dust.

“Walk sideways,” Angela whispered, “We can’t fall from here, we’ll die.”

“I have my grappling hook,” Widowmaker sounded almost offended.

“Why do you have your grappling hook?!”

“Why wouldn’t I have my grappling hook?”

Before Angela could question Widowmaker’s over prepared nature any further they heard the sound of thick heels on wooden stage below. Both froze up, before falling into line next to each other, pressed side by side as they observed below.

Angela watched Widowmaker laugh behind her hand, just slightly. She didn’t get why until she realized what Gabriel was about to do down below.

Flipping back his long coat with a flair, Reaper say down on the small padded bench in front of a massive grand piano. Oh, there was no way this man was going to- no, no, he was absolutely going full ‘Phantom of the Opera’ while he waited for Akande arrive.

Notes from the piano echoed loudly in the empty theatre, filling the empty space. For all the absolute corniness of it all, Gabriel was quite good at it. Unsurprising, Gabriel had always had a talent for the piano. Couldn’t do anything else musical to save his life but he always had that ace in the hole. Old memories of standing behind him during Christmas time flooded her mind, singing along with ‘Dashing Through The Snow’ and later getting teased for not knowing ‘Feliz Navidad’. She’s from Switzerland, it’s not a thing there!

But her golden daydreams were brought to a halt as she spotted Akande open a door on the opposite side of the hall and walk in. Given the bemused look on his face, this wasn’t the first time he’d walked in on Gabriel being dramatic for the sake of dramatic.

The man was unaware, passionately playing his song until the tap on his shoulder brought the keys to a clanging halt as he slammed them down.

“Enjoying yourself?” Akande laughed. Voice easily carrying up to the women above, clinging to each other on the thin catwalk.

Gabriel didn’t turn around as he replied, “Just… practicing.”

“Do not bullshit me, Gabriel,” Akande beamed, “You wanted my entrance to be dazzling for me. Seems like you didn’t expect me though?”

Crossing his arms, the women could feel Gabriel glare behind his mask, “... I thought you were going to be coming from the other door.”

Akande looked up at the door in front of them, in perfect view of the piano, “Ah, the direction of my office. Too bad I had to stop by R&D today.”

“Had to ruin all of my plans,” Gabriel’s voice verging on the old joking edge it used to have, “Even though all I do it help you with yours.”

“Should have locked the other doors, forced me to go through yours,” Akande laughed, nudging Gabriel to sit next to him on the bench, “Surely a man of your dramatics must know the devil's in the details.”

“Got back on the base a bit later than expected, could barely get here in time.”

“Perhaps I should lighten your workload, then?”

Gabriel waved a claw at that, “I don’t like it when people play favorites. You know that.”

“Oh, I know,” Akande replied, “You’ve been protesting Moira’s… connections to Angela for a while now.”

Up above, the named woman tensed up. Gripping tighter to Widowmaker as the conversation turned to her. At long last, they might have a shred of the information they were looking for.

“It’s dangerous,” Gabriel grumbled, “Angela’s a powerful thing we’ve acquired. Moira’s usually a stern, good asset but this… she’s compromised. It’d be stupid to pretend otherwise so don’t even try.”

“Brutal, aren’t you?”

“You see it, Akande. The girl’s not brainwashed, not even a little. Probably pulled some doe-eyed con job on Moira, some old favor she’s owed. And in a rare show of humanity, Moira caved.”

Akande’s foot tapped on the pedals of the piano absentmindedly, “It matters little to me what Moira’s done or not done. The line I’ve drawn in the sand has been met time and time again. Until then, I’m not terribly concerned. Besides, with that little memento on Angela’s neck-”

“What if Moira helped her get it off?”

“Moira isn’t an explosives expert, Gabriel. She’s not going to try.”

“I think she’s getting soft in her own age.”

“Big words coming from a man in his sixties.”

“Never heard you complaining about my age before,” Gabriel laughed and… did he? Did he just grab Akande’s-

Angela gasped, Widowmaker leaning forward and squinting, “What’s going on-”

Even in the dim light, Widowmaker could see Akande flip up Gabriel’s mask and pull him into a kiss.

Slack jawed, she leaned forward more. Still clinging to Angela even as there was the sound of her heel clattering awkwardly against the edge of the catwalk as it slipped off. Flailing, Widowmaker hooked Angela’s leg and sent her tumbling down with her.

On the stage, Akande and Gabriel jumped to their feet as they watched the two unexpected guests tumble down. Stopped from splattering onto the ground only by the one’s quick thinking that left the two tied together, dangling about six feet off the ground by the wire of the grappling hook.

“Uhm, hello?” Angela weakly offered as they were approached by the two men, dumbfounded by the intrusion, “Nice… night we’re having.”

The combination of her mortal terror combined with the inherent comedy of the fact her and Widow’s entangled mass was slowly oscillating her face away from Akande was jarring, only multiplied as she felt a hand on her arm gently spin her back around.

“And what, exactly, were you two doing up there?” Akande asked, a nearly amused expression on his face.


	12. Fight or Flight

“And he just let you go? Without questioning? Without consequences?”

Moira’s wary gaze had been eyeballing the door from the second Angela came back, the shorter woman’s face half buried in her chest as she recalled the events of the evening. Curled up on her lap like an anxious housecat.

After their tumble down to the ground floor, the two women had had to dangle there and try to justify why they’d been spying. But as they’d scrambled to cover their own asses they found Akande just… didn’t seem to care. And not in a bad way either. If anything, the man seemed… not quite embarrassed but… reserved.

Although, given nobody had ever seen Akande in any situation requiring embarrassment, perhaps this was his way.

He’d let them go with little more than a warning not to talk about what they’d seen.

Moira was a bit dumbstruck by this information. She supposed ‘Akande and Gabriel are an item’ isn’t the most shocking thing she’s ever heard, Gabe’s always had a thing for authoritative men, but to hide it… Well, Gabriel being secretive was nothing new but Akande tended to be an open book.

“Is this type of thing normal?” Angela asked, “This is the third secret relationship I’ve encountered in Talon. Is this just how things are?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s par for the course but…” Moira’s fingers tapped soundlessly on Angela’s arm, “Well… perhaps, it is, after all.”

“Why would he be so cautious about it though?”

“I think that’s so much less of a question than why Akande wouldn’t do anything about your… activities. He’s a man of precision and has never had a moment of indecisiveness. For him to just let this go is pure insanity coming from him.”

“What should we do about it?”

“What can we do but wait and see?”

\- - -

And wait they did.

Silently assuming the other boot would fall, a sudden action, a cold decisive cut that would destroy what little Angela had going for her.

But it didn’t.

Moira and Angela were left to their own devices just as they always were. Each day moving back into the groove they’d made. Long days working on experiments, warm nights curled up in Moira’s bed together.

Every time they saw Akande or Gabriel they expected something to happen but it just… didn’t. If anything, the two men seemed to be even more casual with them. Flashes of moments where Moira and Angela could feel like things were almost like a normal workplace.

Moira supposed the collar around Angela’s neck was the only thing keeping Akande from acting a bit more rashly. Perhaps he was just trying to see if a more… organic convert could be a thing?

But as Moira got a notice, about a week after all this, she knew what his angle was.

He was going to test Angela.

A leap of faith.

\- - -

A few days later Angela found herself strapped tightly into a Talon plane inbetween Moira and Sombra.

To her right, Moira was stock still. Mismatched eyes staring straight forward, cogs of her mind clearly clunking along on the problem that had arisen. To her left, Sombra swung her legs which just barely didn’t make it to the ground. Humming a little upbeat tune to herself.

An attack on Overwatch.

The collar around her neck felt like it was strangling her, Akande’s idea evident now.

This was a test, a pass-fail one. Either she was going to be a proper Talon member and attack her friends. At that point, what choice would she have but to stay with Talon? Or she was going to betray Talon and be killed.

For Akande, this was a no-brainer. Either he wins a new ally once and for all or she dies. At the very worst, he’s losing an asset that he had no access to anyways.

As the plane started hovering, Angela still didn’t know what she was going to do.

Hand trembling, it was quelled as a bony hand rest over hers. Moira pulled out of her stupor just enough to attempt to be comforting. Fidgeting, Angela managed to interlock their fingers.

Sombra leaning over and cackling, “Hey lovebirds! Don’t flirt too much in the fight, yeah? You gotta keep me an’ the big guys alive.”

She smacked the unnamed man next to her a couple times, a dullard of a Talon tank just sitting there. Looking down at her, his only reaction was an agitated grunt before looking back up. The door was opening, he had bigger fish to fry.

It was time. Do or die, Angela. Make your choice.

While everyone else equipped parachutes, Angela merely tested her mechanical wings. Carefully checking for any missing feathers, a distraction from the fact she was watching the plane empty out as people dropped down. The sound of their chutes opening until it was only her and Moira up there.

“Try to stay in the wings,” Moira cautioned, “Akande wants this to be an unveiling of you to Overwatch but if you ever want any chance of going back… well, you’re smart, I don’t need to tell you that if they see you… fighting them…”

“It’ll all be over.”

“Precisely.”

“I’m scared, Moira.”

Being pulled into a tight embrace, face buried into the smooth armor over Moira’s chest, she listened to her reply.

“I’m scared too, Angela.”

\- - -

Even the cool night air whipping her unnaturally light hair around wasn’t soothing to Angela as she soared above the calamity below.

King’s Row. An oft contested place and not a great place to hide.

Well, not for her at least. While Moira’s black clothing helped her blend in the bright white of Angela’s wings and uniform made her stand out against the dark buildings and the night sky. Sticking close, she hoped the shadows would be enough.

Sporadically she darted down, feeling disgust as she’d heal up one of the Talon tank before disappearing again. Climbing high into the sky and relying on the inverted, enhanced eyes to watch what was happening below.

Familiar faces dotted the crowd but no major players. No Fareeha, no Jack, no Reinhardt... 

Regardless, they’d all know her. She’d be recognized in a heartbeat, even in her altered form.

Each time she had to stick her head out was agonizing. In her ear, the harsh military chatter of the grunts mixed with instructions from Moira of where to go. Cut sharply by jokes and flirts, spat by a playful Sombra creeping around.

Exhausted from flying down and flying up and down and up, Angela touched down on a small landing above a building and allowed herself a breather as a lull in the fighting was reached. It was almost as if the Overwatch agents had temporarily waned, pushed back by the Talon forces.

The voice from behind her nearly made her topple over the ledge, “So, you’re up here too.”

“Moira, don’t sneak up on me in the battlefield!” Angela replied, hand over her quickly beating heart, “You know I get so jumpy out here.”

“Sorry,” Moira knelt next to her, “Are you feeling alright? I’d say you look pale but well, since the procedures, you always look pale.”

“It’s exhausting. I don’t… I don’t think anyone’s seen me but the effort that’s gone into that… Oh, I’m going to need a nice, long bath after this is all over.”

“Perhaps I’ll join you, if that were to be to your liking,” Moira purred, pushing back a stray piece of hair.

“You know very well it would be,” Angela laughed, “We should get some wine from the room service, too. Really go all o-”

Below them a commotion arose. All at once, as if a swarm of ants, the Overwatch forces came back, numbers larger than ever. Quickly beginning to overpower the Talon forces below as they clustered around them.

“We have to get down there!” Moira stumbled to her feet, “Where did they even come from?”

Another voice interrupted them, “Nice and mysterious, just like me! But now, it’s my turn to shine!”

Bright purple flashed past them as Sombra uncloaked, taking a running leap from their ledge to another, before finally jumping up high into the air and flashing a wide, electronic looking light exploding around the area as she yelled, “¡APAGANDO LAS LUCES!”

Instantly, electronics down below started herking and jerking on the Overwatch soldiers. Sparks and flashes blinding them as their equipment malfunctioned.

Talon equipment was okay.

Except for one thing.

One odd little piece of technology that Sombra herself hadn’t even considered. Not coded to be excluded from the effects of her EMP like all the rest of Talon’s electronics.

With a sharp click, the explosive collar around Angela’s neck released. Skittering across the smooth stone and falling to the cobblestone below.

Both medics froze, shocked by the one and only thing truly keeping Angela captive was just… just GONE.

“Moira… what… do…” Angela babbled, ghost white hand pointing at the fallen collar like it was a snake, coiled and ready to pounce up and curl around her neck again.

Unlike Angela, however, Moira came to her sense much faster. Pulling Angela roughly to her feet before started to push her towards the ledge, yelling, “Go! Go!!”

“What’re you-” Angela dumbly replied, some part of her not understanding the magnitude of what was going on. In denial of freedom being right in front of her.

“Fly, you idiot!” Moira yelled, “This is your chance, your ONLY chance!”

Everything clicked into place all at once, Angela leaping and taking off at the very last second. Soaring up high, looking behind her, watching Moira get further and further away, some part of Angela wanted to turn around.

But she didn’t.

Weaving in between buildings, Angela went faster and faster.

Leaving King’s Row and Moira behind.

\- - -

This was by far Angela’s longest flight. Chasing the sun as it set over the next few hours, relying solely on her geographic knowledge. It was a damned good thing she’d always loved looking at maps, knowing where she was travelling to.

And now, she could see her goal in the distance. Each familiar detail crystal clear, her inverted eyes zooming in on them easily even though they were just barely illuminated in the moonlight.

Her eyes… now blackened with the bright blue peeking out. Skin ghost white. The… the wings. Feathered obstructions jutting unnaturally from her back.

While Angela had grown so accustomed to her new appearance, fond of it even, but she knew… to the others, she was a freak now.

That made her balk, just a little. But she shook her head. She’s was alive, she was well, her friends wouldn’t care what had happened to her appearance. In time, maybe they would even see the beauty in it.

Swooping down, Angela landed neatly in front of Winston’s lab.

Heart still soaring, she ran up to the door but found it locked.

No issue, it was just a short walk to the dormitories. Who to wake up though? Ana? Pharah? Jack? Winston? Reinhardt? Nearly skipping as she headed deeper into the Watchpoint, she was just… so relieved to be home. To be safe and free.

But Moira… what was going to happen to Moira? God, what if… what if someone saw her push her to leave? Or Sombra… what if she was blamed for the collar malfunction?

Can't… can’t think about that, Angela. You’re home, you’re safe. Moira and Sombra are tough and it’ll… it’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.

Her shoes made light tapping noises as she slunk through the abandoned halls, only her enhanced vision making that possible. But whenever the moonlight could hit her she was lit up like a Christmas tree. As she turned the corner to slink through the hangar and into the personal quarters she saw someone.

Even with his back facing her it was obviously Jack. His white hair glowing in the moonlight too, somewhat illuminated by the phone he was looking at in his hands.

He jumped as Angela called out to him, “Jack! Jack!!”

The man looked dazed as he turned and looked at her, “Angela?”

Picking up the pace, Angela was just shy of sprinting to him with her arms out wide. All doubts missing from her mind, seeing her old friend. One of the old Overwatch dads nonetheless.

Jumping up, she dragged him down a bit into a tight hug around his shoulders, “I got away, I’m so glad to see-”

A strong arm around her back sharply tensed and she yelled as she was suddenly yanked off her feet. Feeling her mechanical wings be crushed against her side as Jack started painfully dragging her through the doorway, yelling for Ana over and over.

Flinching at his booming voice, Angela tried to spread her wings and escape to no avail, “Jack?! What are you doing!! It’s me! I look a bit different, I know, but nothing that warrants THIS!!”

The end of her sentence was punctuated by her delivering a sharp kick to the back of Jack’s knees. He balked temporarily but she didn’t gain her freedom from it. He ignored her, almost pointedly, as he yelled out to Ana again with infuriatingly vague addition, “ANA! SHE’S BACK!”

“What the hell are you yelling about at THREE in the MORNING?” Ana shouted back, shuffling into sight. Still donning her nightgown, white hair hanging scraggly around her shoulders, rubbing at her eyes which suddenly burst open at the sight of the mutated Angela, “Jack, by Allah, is that Angela?!”

“Ana!” Angela yelled out herself, “Help me, get Jack off of me!”

But she found no help in the old lady as she came over and examined her, “What did they do to you?!”

Jack answered for her, “Whatever the fuck Talon did to her, we can’t worry about that now. We need to get her in containment. Get Winston! He’s sleeping in his lab tonight.”

Verdammt, Angela should have gone inside the lab! Why did she assume it was empty?! Winston often slept in there! He wouldn’t be hauling her around like this. Or… would he?

“Containment?!” Angela squawked either way, kicking and squirming harder, “I don’t need to be contained! All I did was escape, now I’m here and fine!”

But Jack ignored her and her struggling, taking a weak elbow to the jaw like a champ but his request to Ana was a bit more urgent, “Seriously! Get Winston.”

Angela watched Ana run off, quickly ahead of them, as she found herself slowly following after her as Jack’s captive. Of all the ways she could have pictured her reunion with her Overwatch family, this situation never would have occurred to her so a possibility, let alone a likely one.

Letting her head drop, giving up, Angela felt tears slide down her face for the first time since the second batch of changes.

With horror, she could faintly see the teardrops fall black on the pavement.

Maybe Jack and everyone was right to worry about what she’d become.

\- - -

Moira had never seen Sombra look nervous before in all the years of knowing her so seeing the girl practically chewing her bottom lip off was disconcerting.

“The fucking collar…” Moira heard her hiss under her breath before being directly addressed, “How did I forget about the fucking collar?! Akande’s going to kill us…”

“Akande’s going to kill YOU,” Moira replied, anxiously tapping a finger on her thigh nonetheless, “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Can I get a little sympathy here?” Sombra begged, latching herself firmly around Moira’s arm, “Since Angela’s gone you need a new toy, right? I like being experimented on, be my savior when he decides to throw me to the wolves?”

“Oh my annoying pet, you think I’d let him get rid of you?” Moira pushed hair away from Sombra’s face, “Who would break into my lab and infuriate me if not you? I’d be so lonely.”

Squeezing tightered, Sombra’s face turned surprisingly soft, “Speaking of lonely… you… you gonna be okay all alone in that lab? Me an’ Wids can come sleepover down there with you if you want.”

“That… won’t be required. I mourn best alone.”

“Come down randomly and snuggle with you, got it.”

“If I wake up and you’re sleeping in my bed, I will not hesitate to push you out of it.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, my dearest man scientist,” Sombra said, dragging a finger down Moira’s jawline.

Both jumped away from each other as they heard the door to Akande’s office bang open. A guard inside gesturing for Sombra to follow him. The pleading look she gave Moira said ‘please remember me fondly.’

God, Sombra couldn’t have been in there for more than five minutes but it felt like an eternity for Moira. Trapped alone with her own thoughts, nothing to distract herself.

Angela was gone. Completely gone. It was good, Moira supposed. If you love something let it go, right? But some nagging part of her mind knew what she’d thought in that moment back then. While ultimately, Moira has pushed Angela to leave… she’d been so, so close to grabbing her. Not letting her leave.

But she had and after Akande was done ripping Sombra in half, he’d come for her.

The door opened again, Sombra’s voice sudden and loud. Jubilant. Oh thank god.

“No, no, no, you got it boss man, won’t happen again. Just make sure you send me ALL the extra device information, I’ll make absolutely sure NONE of it is effected by my EMP ever again. Alright, I love you, bye-bye!”

Whipping into sight, hand over her panting chest, Sombra looked at Moira with a hopeful and cheery look, “He ain’t mad at me and I don’t think he’d gonna be mad at you. Good luck either way though, I’ll be rooting for you! And watching through a security cam!”

Disappearing in a flash of purple, Sombra bolted off to presumably do exactly that as the same guard gestured for Moira now.

Stepping in, it was dead silent. The sounds of her footsteps nerve wracking even though if Sombra was to be believed…

“Moira, come here,” Akande said, patting the seat next to him at the very end of the long table, “We’ve taken quite a hit now, haven’t we?”

Sliding into the seat she nodded, “The loss of Angela is a heavy one.”

Forcing herself still, she didn’t jump as Akande put his hand over hers, “It is, how are you holding up?”

Moira was a bit shocked at the casualness of that, forcing down a stutter, “I’m… doing fine. It’s very regrettable but-”

“You don’t need to be so detached with me, Moira. Reports say you were up there with her, tried to grab her when she flew away. I don’t blame you, if you are worried about that. So please, be frank with me.”

“I’m going to miss her,” Moira mumbled under her breath, just barely audible, “I’m going to miss her a lot.”

The massive hand moved to pat her shoulder this time, “Take some to yourself. I think you deserve a vacation.”

“Thank you, Akande.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man is something about this fic making chapters take forever. Don't worry, I'm not going to drop it, just wanting to apologize for the slow update schedule on this bad boy. Hopefully I can get it going a bit faster now that I'm over this little writers' block.


	13. What Of My Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man these chapters are getting CHUNKY as we approach the end but I'm glad to be getting things wrapped up! Despite it being a bit slow going, I'm quite happy with how this fic has turned out and hope I pull off the last couple chapters well.

Sunlight blinding her, Angela awoke to being above ground for the first time in a long time.

Cringing, she lifted her hand and for a split second wished she was still in the subterranean lab deep in Talon’s guts.

Pushing herself up, displeased to again be on a prison cot, Angela looked around.

She’d never seen the inside of the Overwatch detainment centers before. Even if a captive needed medical attention they’d simply transport them to her lab rather than have her come down here.

It didn’t go without notice that Angela was being held in the very place that murderers and terrorists had.

That’s what she was to her Overwatch family now.

Their lost, black sheep child.

Curling into a little ball, Angela began to cry. Sniffling and wiping at her eyes, she cringed at the black liquid on her hands. When had this started to happen? Were Moira’s tests supposed to mutate? She supposed that made sense, a slow patch of additions to her. Nothing too harsh to shock the system.

But as she heard the door to the prisons open, she’d rather her tears fall clear and normal.

The Amaris flanking Winston approached her cell. Having seen her before, Ana wasn’t shook but the shock on Fareeha’s face was stark and painful. Seeing her grip her mother’s hand like a little girl again. Unable to hide her emotions, she’s never had been good at that.

Winston had more elegant bedside manner though, merely curiously examining her in a quiet, lowkey way. Still made her feel a bit like, well, a gorilla in the zoo. Their species being a bit ironic in this way.

But it was Fareeha who broke the silence in aghast horror, “Angela… what did they do to you?”

“Fareeha!” Ana yelped at her, smaking her arm with annoyance, “Don’t be rude!”

Angela was surprised by the weight still on her back as she stood up to approach the glass separating them, her wings unremoved. She supposed Jack hadn’t thought to try and take them off. Either way, ghost white hands on the glass, she beseeched her hopefully more forgiving and understanding friends, “Please, you guys have to let me go. This is insanity! I’ve been held captive by Talon for months, finally get away, and this is what I come back to? You have to help me!”

There was a few dull thunks as Ana gently patted the other side of the glass, big, soft brown eyes desperately sad, “Oh Angela… I don’t… we don’t want this but after the Amélie Lacroix incident… look, we cannot be careful enough. This is for our safety and yours. We have to make sure there’s nothing… wrong with you.”

“Wrong with me?!” Angela squawked, “There’s nothing wrong with me!”

Winston cut in this time, adjusting his glasses nervously, “Uh, don’t, want to butt in but… you’re… uhm…”

Awkwardly, he gestured to, well, all of her. Her mutated appearance, in their eyes, more than enough evidence that something was indeed wrong with her. Frankly, in the eyes of anyone sane.

“This is- this is purely cosmetic! They didn’t brainwash me, they just-”

Patting the glass again, Ana shook her head, “Look, Angela… we want to believe you. We don’t want you to put you through all this but we have to. We can’t take chances this and especially not with your… condition. As it stands. It’s just such a stretch that they would do all this to you but not ensure that you were on their side. It’s simply illogical.”

Panicking and banging back on the glass hard enough to cause Ana to step back, Angela shook her head, “No, no, Moira didn’t-”

That name had the very opposite effect than Angela hoped.

“Moira?” Ana asked, eyes narrowing, “Moira O’Deorain? She’s… she’s the one who did this to you?”

Angela blindly believed that it had helped though, leaning in on it, “Yes, she did as little as she could. Most importantly she completely dropped any sort of indoctrination, as a favor to me.”

“A favor? So you owe her now?”

“No, no, she owed me from way back in the Overwatch days,” Angela shook her head, “Please Ana, everything’s above the board.”

“I’m sorry, Angela, we have to do this.”

\- - -

The knock on the door was rhythmic, or rather was trying to be, and annoying. Insistent.

It had been going on for a while now.

Moira was pretty sure Sombra had started kicking the door in addition. Like a loud, clashing kickdrum to her impromptu drum session.

Most importantly, she very clearly wasn’t giving up.

Twisting to the side as she opened the door, Moira narrowly dodged the mid-pound hand with an annoyed, “Can I help you?”

Expertly using that trajectory to wrap herself around Moira’s waist, happily dangling a carton of expensive imported Irish beer with the other, “Nah, but we can help you!”

Sombra’s light scamper was bogged down by Moira’s long, slow steps as she dragged much taller woman towards her personal quarters. Steady, quick steps followed them and a peek back showed that Widowmaker had come as well, several bottles of wine in her arms. A fairly large bag hanging off her side. Moira’s curt, “I don’t recall inviting you in,” didn’t stop Sombra from pushing the door open.

“Never been in your room,” Sombra sang, dancing in excitedly, dangerously close to dropping the bottles all over the hardwood floors, “It’s dark in here! Sexy!”

It was, dark colors with an Irish motif. Lots of deep green. Wanted the feel of living in a forest while deep underground and Akande hadn’t let her down.

“What do you want?” Moira asked, really not in the mood for company and yet unable to do anything to stop Widowmaker from curling up on her couch and beginning to open one of the bottles of wine. Already taking one of the glasses from the coffee table to pour herself one.

Also taking the liberty of pouring Moira one and holding it up to her, “Drink.”

Sighing, Moira accepted it and sat in the middle seat of the sofa, “I take it you’re here to ‘try to cheer me up’ or something similar then? Not going to take ‘no’ for an answer?”

Regretting her seat choice, Moira jostled as Sombra collapsed on her other side and tried to curl up under Moira’s arm. Uncaring of the drops of wine that fell into her hair, “Oh, absolutely not, we’re gonna do everything in our power to make your transition to Angela-less-ness a little easier.”

“It’s a shame,” Widowmaker sipped, “Sombra’s been torn up about it.”

A socked foot- god, did Sombra walk all the way down here with no shoes? Nevermind, that’s not surprising- aimed soft kicks at Widow’s thigh, “Hey! Don’t tell her that, you’re gonna ruin my street cred!”

“You have no street cred,” Moira obliged Widow gently nudging the bottom of the glass to tip it into her mouth.

“Are you doing alright?” Widowmaker asked.

“I… feel alone,” Moira fiddled with the glass, “Ever since we got her, I’ve been with her. Even if only in the holding area, my lab hasn’t been empty. Now, mind you, this is NOT and invitation for you to stay in here. It’s her I miss. A contemporary.”

“You could always teach me some sci-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Killjoy,” Sombra stuck out her tongue, “But we’re still gonna stick around. For a bit.”

“Oh, you’ll have to leave eventually. Then there’s nothing to stop me from locking the door and getting to mourn in private.”

The manic smile on Sombra’s face as Widowmaker swung the bag out from behind her as priceless. A quick zip, unveiling the contents of the bag. Pajamas and other necessities.

Groaning, Moira rolled her head back, “You’re settled in, then.”

“We’re stayin’ until you’re happy.”

“I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.”

“Well then, you better get used to us then.”

\- - -

What a thing to get used to.

At first, Ana had promised Angela that this would be a week, tops.

It had been well over a month now.

The old woman avoided her gaze but the twisted guilt on her face said it all: Angela wasn’t going free anytime soon.

Tests were her life now, knowing enough to know that Winston was performing the same tests over and over again. Never satisfied with the results, although Angela had a strong inkling that it wasn’t him pushing for it.

Worst of all she was losing weight fast. Never a terribly big woman in the first place, she was wasting quickly away between the tests and the mediocre food.

It struck her that honestly, even at her worst, she was still treated more humanely by Talon. Even if only by Moira’s influence.

Moira. Was it crazy for Angela to say she missed Moira? No, absolutely not, but what was crazy was the fact she… she kinda regretted running away from Talon.

Alone in her cell she shook her head. Don’t think about the Angela, think about how soon you’ll be back with your friends, your family.

The ones keeping you captive.

While the Amaris and him had the decency to at least hide their suspicions about Angela, Jack was not so subtle. Clearly not believing a word being said to him. Not outright cruel towards her but cold, very cold. She suspected the man has hurt more than anything but it didn’t make her any less enraged towards him.

Fareeha was the weakest link in this. Everyone seemed to know that, she was given the least avenues to talk to Angela of them all. Only seeing her for a brief time, three times a day, to deliver her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Seemingly something she’d asked to do, a small way to keep in contact with Angela. Permitted to talk to her, just a bit.

Mostly about what had happened since Angela had left. Everyday Fareeha would tell her about a new recruit or a watchpoint that had opened up again. There was something she was keeping from her though, she hadn’t pried into that yet though.

Talking about Talon and Angela’s time there was a much less popular topic. Fareeha seemed very intent on making sure Angela was up to date with Overwatch, fully supporting her rejoining their family. No doubt in her mind that Angela was fine. She wanted to ask about Talon, it was obvious, but she was far too polite to actually ask directly about it.

It was refreshing, really. To have someone believe her.

Because no one else did.

Ever the worst liar, Fareeha was unable to stop herself when Angela pried. Trying to find out what her position was. Hoping to hear that she’d be freed once more but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to a month…

Angela wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

If ever.

Another day of being curled up in her cell, arm aching from how much blood had been taken, Angela knew she had to do something, anything, to get out of here. She had no plans of what to do once she was free but she just… she had to leave.

She watched Fareeha enter the prison area, holding a tray of gross, flavorless, microwaved food in her hands. Her smile was pained, as always, wanting to put on a cheery face for her captive friend.

Walking up to the clear plastic wall, perforated with holes that allowed Angela to speak, she clicked open the little flap on the door to hand over the meal, “Angela, you’re looking well today.”

A friendly placation, as usual. Angela took it in turn, feeling no need to guilt the blameless, “As well as I can be, I suppose. How have you been?”

Suddenly flustered, Fareeha awkwardly fiddled with the lock, “T-things have been fine! Just… hanging out, you know?”

For a second Angela said nothing, just looking down at the soggy mashed potatoes and sad little piece of faux-meat. Fareeha. The only one here who believes her. A soft spot for Angela, her old friend. Hiding a secret.

Overwatch’s weak link.

Maybe that secret would help.

She had to leave. Fareeha could be her ticket to freedom.

Flashing her perfectly practiced smile, Angela set the food down on the small end table, “Oh Fareeha, you’re hiding something from me. What has got a practiced soldier like you all flustered?”

“It’s just… oh, Angela, it’s silly. Don’t make me feel like a fool.”

“Oh, it’s something embarrassing then? Well, I surely HAVE to know now. Please, Fareeha, what else have I to do while I sit, trapped in this cell?”

Fidgeting with the royal blue edges of her sleeves, Fareeha bit her lip, “Angela…”

“Perhaps, if you tell me something embarrassing about you in Overwatch… I’ll tell you more about what happened to me in Talon.”

That got her, eyes flicking up excitedly, “Really?”

“Of course, why would I like about that?”

“That’s true, that’s true,” Fareeha nodded, smile creeping across her face slowly as her lips twisted back, “I’ve met someone.”

“Hmm, that’s vague,” Angela hooked her fingers into the holes in the plexiglass.

“Do you… do you remember me telling you about the woman who we rescued from Vishkar? The defector who wanted to help take them down?”

“Satya Vaswani?” Angela gasped, “The famous architect?”

Oh, did Fareeha look proud of herself, even through her embarrassment, “Yep! I’ve been helping her get acclimated to life with Overwatch. They even made me her roommate. She’s so cool, instantly she had me in the palm of her hand.”

Tapping said palm, Fareeha searched Angela’s face for her feelings on that. However, Angela had things on her mind other than mindlessly supporting her friend. An in, a weakness. A blooming romance.

Something they had in common.

“How long have you been seeing her?”

“Hard to say, considering I was showing her around anyways, but I’d say… just a couple weeks after you were kidnapped. I think the elders wanted to give me a job to do, considering how upset I was.”

“You… you were upset?”

“Of course I was upset! We… we were all unsure of if we’d ever see you again and the last thing we’d done was argue. I didn’t… I didn’t want that to be our last interaction. Our last memory. I was angry then but… but you’ve been my friend for many, many years, Angela.”

A second weakness. Fear of Angela dying on bad terms.

Dig in, Angela, dig in. You need to get out of here.

“It seems we’ve been up to similar things, these past few months...” Angela put on her best demure face, kicking what she hoped was going to be as Oscar winning performance.

Fareeha, of course, always trusting, fell into her little trap instantly with rapt curiosity, “What do you mean?”

Fidgeting with the holes in the glass, Angela played up her embarrassment, “It’s… you’ll judge me.”

“No, no, Angela, I won’t,” Fareeha promised, trying to look too excited about it as she was completely hooked in, “Please?”

“Well… there’s… a reason I was so protected while I was in Talon…” Angela reeled Fareeha in easily, “Me and Moira… it wasn’t simply a favor from the past that kept me safe. That was merely the start. I’m sure you knew of all the rumors about us when we were younger…”

“About the illegal human experimentation or the dating rumors?” Fareeha joked, before it settled into her mind, “Wait…”

“Nail on the head,” Angela confessed, “While we were never an item back then… in Talon, we were together all the time. We grew reattached, closer than before even. She protected me. Even let me sleep in her room with her so I wouldn’t have to sleep in a cell. Mostly left to our own devices, always a pair...”

“You’ve fallen in love.”

“I have.”

Instantly, Fareeha melted from excited to cautious, “Angela…”

“I know, it’s… it’s not the same as you being interested in someone on the up-and-up like Satya but… I was… I was happy.”

“Why did you come back then?”

“Talon had put a collar on me, to control me. It accidentally released. Moira pushed me to go, saw it as my chance to leave, to be free. I did. But even as I flew away… it didn’t feel right.”

“Angela…” Fareeha muttered, looking down at the ground.

Her careful act began to crack at the seams, genuine sadness coating her words, “Coming back here I felt like I’d made the right decision… until… until I found Jack. I was so happy to see him but he grabbed me and… now I’m here. Being tested on. I’m scared, Fareeha.”

“This… I’m… I’m sorry for how things have gone down, Angela.”

“I want to go home to Moira.”

That sentence hung heavy in the air. Even though it had been a planned line, one Angela knew would be the perfect nail in the coffin, it came out heart wrenchingly genuine. True emotion making it hit Angela just as hard as Fareeha.

Unexpected, loud sobs instantly burst out of Angela. Knocking her onto her ass in surprise as she collapsed to the ground, causing Fareeha instant distress. Panicking, Fareeha just started knocking on the glass, “Are you okay?!”

Angela just shook her head, repeating as she curled into a ball, “I want to go home!”

Feeling stupid at how easily her calculated plan had turned into ‘I’m throwing a tantrum’, Angela couldn’t stop herself. It got the intended effect though as Fareeha crouched down to her level, “Please don’t cry, it’s just…”

“They’re not letting me go, are they?”

A cold truth that neither Angela nor Fareeha wanted to acknowledge.

She kept pushing though, “They’re afraid I’ll kill someone, just like Widowmaker.”

“They… they are,” Fareeha admitted, throat tight, “I don’t… Jack is pushing to keep you in confinement indefinitely. He doesn’t think it’s worth the risk. Not out of hatred, he’s very… very torn up about this. I know you might not believe that but he’s been desolate, in his own way. Disappearing for long stretches of time. But nonetheless, your freedom… doesn’t look like it will be coming anytime soon.”

“Then…” Angela wiped her eyes, “Let me be like Widowmaker.”

Agape, Fareeha shook her head, “I’m not going to let you kill someone!”

“No, no,” Angela put her hands up, “I saw her, Fareeha. In Talon. They let her walk around freely, she… she has friends, she has a girlfriend, a beautiful room, freedom…”

“What are you asking me, Angela?”

“Let me go, Fareeha. Please.”

\- - -

Creeping in the dark, Angela kept close to Fareeha. It was a gamble to make it look like Angela had broken out on her own. Connected to the lab, grimly splashing Angela’s blackened blood on the lock. Short circuiting it. Easy to claim it was some weird power Angela had acquired but hard to know if people would buy that.

Destroying the surveillance videos had been easy though. A simple matter of getting onto the computer and deleting it, leaving nothing but black behind. Deactivating the area’s cameras on a timer.

Now if they just got Angela off the base without anyone noticing…

Well, Fareeha knew it was still a massive gamble but it was painful watching her old friend waste away and if Jack had his way that was just… just going to be Angela’s life forever.

Looking over at Angela, glowing in the moonlight, Fareeha couldn’t pretend she didn’t have her reservations. Even though she felt that, even if she was caught, she would be let off lighter than she probably should be. Being Ana’s daughter and all, ever the perfect beacon of light. If anything, Fareeha had a feeling that Angela would take the hit harder than her. Seen as a corrupting force, maybe they’re even think Angela had developed some sort of mind control.

It didn’t make this endeavor any less nerve wracking for Fareeha.

Not to mention… what if Angela WAS dangerous?

Hands shaking by the time they got to the edge of the base, looking out at the sea, Fareeha grabbed Angela’s arm tightly, “Before you go, I need you to promise something to me.”

Surprised, Angela’s eyes were impossible to see in the dark, looking rather like she was possessed by a demon, “I… alright?”

“I need to promise that once you leave this base, you leave Overwatch alone. You don’t come back, you don’t fight us. Because if I meet you on the battleground… I won’t have the option of mercy. If you fight us, I will fight you.”

Angela’s face was indiscernible, pale face like a statue as she answered, “I promise, Fareeha.”

She squawked a little as Fareeha pulled her into a vice grip hug, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Angela squeezed her back.

Letting go, Fareeha couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right decision as she watched Angela get a running start and take off.

But either way… the decision had been made.

All Fareeha could do was hope that Angela would keep her word as she watched her soar away.


	14. Migration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so much longer than it should have but in my defense Black Friday and a sudden promotion knocked me offline for like a week lmao. Plus I'm in three different zines now, two as an artist and one as a writer. <3
> 
> We're teetering at the very end, one more chapter and a short epilogue which will be posted at the same time.

Angela’s face was raw from the cold wind whipping against it. When she’d flown to Gibraltar, the wind had been at her back, but the flight back had taken a turn for the rougher.

It didn’t help that Angela wasn’t entirely sure where Talon’s headquarters was.

Right now she was taking a bit of a different approach.

She’d gathered a vague concept of where Talon operated out of despite having been blindfolded when leaving and going. Always was good with her bearings. Wandering around a city nearby to terrified looks by civilians, waiting for a Talon plane to fly overhead. Knowing they were always sending people out, it was just a matter of time.

However with her stomach rumbling, going without food for well out over twenty-four hours without food, Angela was starting to wonder if she’d just fucked herself. Left herself alone to die in an unknown city.

But the sound of a large aircraft tearing through the sky overhead made Angela’s heart soar.

As well as, you know, her actual body.

Using an alleyway to take off, Angela caused alarm as she took off the ground. Bursting out into the street like a bat out of hell as she took to the sky, sending a few pedestrians falling onto their ass at shock of the… angel? Demon? That had just burst out from the darkness in front of them.

The Talon freighter was barely visible against the blue-tinted night sky. Black as coal and dotted with red lights. Fast but Angela was still fast enough to catch up. Zipping above it before dropping down, grabbing onto the external ladder to the top hatch. Folding her wings in tight and holding on for dear life as they soared towards their goal.

This time, unblindfolded, Angela made sure to take note of the exact location as they arrived. Just outside the city, nestled in some mountains, only a small portion of the building visible from the outside. But as the plane grew close, the ground lifted up. A entrance to the underground hangar.

Clung tightly to the outside of the plane, Angela waited. Everyone filtering out, turning off the lights as the last shift shut it down. Waiting until she was completely alone before she clambered down. Nearly collapsing when she dropped to the ground, weakened by lack of nutrition. But she was… home.

With minor complications. Angela was, uh, not entirely sure where she was.

Creeping out of the hangar, she was still out of her league.

Should she… should she just find someone and ask them? Flashing back to Jack violently accosting her, Angela didn’t terribly like that idea. Perhaps she could just creep down to the lab herself… if Moira found her first she’s help her. Anyone else…

Luckily for her the halls were empty as she crept around. Bare feet padding on the cold floors, Angela shuddered in the slightly shredded prisoner’s uniform. They’d accomodated her wings best they could but it left what about to blue scrubs with two wide holes to maneuver the extra appendages through.

Angela didn’t tell them the wings were removable. A danger, get them taken away. She wouldn’t have been able to escape then or at least...

Moira. Just… just focus on finding Moira. She’ll keep you safe.

Picking up the pace, Angela slunk through the hallways faster. Twisting and turning, fairly certain she was going in circles on each floor but taking the stairs down each time she came across them assured she was at least heading in the right direction. Vaguely. A slow spiral to the bottom of the building.

Quiet footsteps were all Angela heard for a long time before another noise cut the air.

Click, swing, slam.

Footsteps. Heavy footsteps.

Echoing all around the floor, Angela couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. Looking around desperately for place to hide or a clue as to which way to run away from the looming threat.

But there was nothing. No place to tuck away as the figure turned the corner.

Akande always cuts an imposing figure, being 7’1” and all, but given Jack’s reaction to Angela… well, she was terrified to the core. Even though the man was in what seemed to be pajamas. A black tank top and baggy pants with little skulls all over them. Were she in a better state of mind, she would have surmised them a gift from Gabriel. Coffee mug hanging off his prosthetic hand, the normal sized alternative to the behemoth gauntlet, reading ‘World’s Best Boss.’ A plate of cookies in the other.

The kitchen. Angela now knew she was by the kitchen.

Frozen in place, Angela didn’t do much but stand there and tremble. Looking up at him with her blacked out eyes, save for the small ring of blue, set deep in her now sunken in face. Looking rather like a malnourished ghost than anything.

“My god…” he set the mug on a shallow ledge, approaching her with his mouth agape, “Angela…”

Reaching out to her, the second his finger tapped her shoulder it was liking knocking an “off” button. Slumping to the ground, Angela was barely caught inches off the ground by a strong arm. Groaning in pain as she was easily lifted off the ground.

Heart pounding until she heard his next words.

“It’s alright, Angela, I’ll take you home.”

Weakly, she smiled.

\- - -

Sipping daintily at the coffee offered to her on the way and nibbling at the cookies, Angela was starting to feel better as as she was carried from elevator to elevator. Tucked behind doors, Talon wanting the building hard to navigate, Akande explained.

At least that made Angela feel a bit less stupid. The place’s maze-like corridors had always been a confusing choice to her.

God, this coffee was sickly sweet though.

Only compounded by the cookies. Meringues. Angela’d never been the type to enjoy those, always felt like a mouthful of eggy sugar. But Akande had a sweet tooth, it seemed.

“I think… I think I can walk…” Angela spoke up, weakly trying to squirm out of Akande’s arms as they approached the lab.

Even as he placed her gently down he was skeptical, “Are you sure?”

A few uncertain steps, Angela allowed him to least hang onto her hand, “I am fine but… perhaps keep an eye on me.”

At the very least Angela was picking up the pace, able to keep up with Akande’s normal walking speed as they walked through the pristine lab. Looking untouched. It seemed like Moira hadn’t been doing a lot of work lately. If at all.

Akande only let go of her as the door to Moira’s private chambers was opened. Leaning his massive frame against the door’s and watching as Angela toddled like a newborn deer past the groggily waking up forms of Widowmaker and Sombra sprawled on the couch. Ignoring Sombra’s startled “Fantasma!” as she half dove, half collapsed onto Moira’s bed and, by extent, Moira herself.

Whatever she said waking up came out in garbled Gaelic, blinking blankly as she was jerked out of a dead sleep.

Practically crawling on top of her as Angela squirmed up on the bed with her, arms tightly around a practically asleep and very confused Moira’s neck.

Temporarily blinding the assorted gaggle of women, Akande flicked on the light for them. Giving Moira some clarity with exactly who had accosted her.

“Angela?” Moira sputtered out, “What are you doing here?!”

Grabbing the bony edges of her face and pulling her into a kiss, Angela smiled against her lips as she replied, “I came home.”

At that, Angela instantly succumbed to exhaustion.

\- - -

The next twenty-four hours were a blur of sleep, food, quiet check ups and affection.

Sleep was dominant. Out nearly cold most of the day as she only blinked awake to eat food. A lot of food. It seemed like Akande had put the kitchens on her absolute beck and call because she’d request food one minute and find it at her bedside the next.

Another constant was that she was never alone.

Everytime she woke up she was resting heavily on Moira’s chest, burrowed into her side like a hibernating baby bear. Sometimes not alone with her, occasionally waking up to her chatting with Widowmaker or Sombra sitting on the bed with them or Akande or Gabriel standing off to the side.

Occasionally Angela woke up to being gently checked over. Unlike the tests in Overwatch, Moira was being an unobtrusive as possible. Mostly just small things like pulse, making sure she was responsive, testing her eyes when she was awake.

Not checking if Angela was a danger. Checking if Angela was alright.

But on the morning of the second day, Angela was up properly for the first time since arriving back.

Waking up, she was alone in the bed but not the room. Moira just off to the side of the room, drying off wet hair with an emerald green towel that matched the one wrapped around her thin body.

Angela idly wondered why Moira looked so normal thin but while her own sudden weight loss left her looking like a husk.

Bundling herself up in the heavy comforter, Angela slid off the bed looking like a tiny queen as she crept towards the unaware Moira. Ghostly hand escaping from the warm safety and grabbing the offending towel and tugging it off.

Aside from a jolt at the sudden cold, Moira chuckled quietly, “Well. Someone’s awake. And mischievous. Feeling better?”

“As much as I can until I’ve gotten my weight back up to normal,” Angela grinned as she tossed the towel to the side when Moira reached for it, “Also for all these injection sites to clean up… they took so much blood…”

“Well, hopefully they don’t steal my research. A lot of information in your blood. Although, I highly doubt they’ll be terribly interested in it when Jack’s still brimming with super soldier serum remnants in his veins. If they’re going to be playing with genetics, they’d be doing that instead.”

“Somehow, considering my reception there, I doubt that they’re terribly interested in human experimentation.”

Gulping deeply as Moira stepped forward, bare chest enticingly at face height as a symptom of the woman’s impossibly tall stature, Angela’s face grew red as long, bony fingers ran along the sides of her face. Making her look up at Moira.

“Why did you come back, Angela?”

“What do you mean?” she asked back, thin bony wristing in her hand and feeling like it was really quite obvious that she’d suffered out of Talon’s protection, “Look at me. I’ve never been a particularly big woman but I’ve wasted away to just shy of nothing.”

“But why come back here?” Moira insisted, her look inscrutable, “You were our captive. Akande made me experiment on you. Freed only by a fluke of a usually oddly through woman.”

“Where else could I go?”

“Angela, I need you to tell me you didn’t willingly re-enter captivity for me…”

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

“It’s a guilt I couldn’t bear,” Moira replied, letting go of Angela to look in the mirror at herself. Towering, sunken in, always a bit evil looking. Always had been. With that glare she always seemed to lurk in her mismatched eyes, “For once, I did the right thing. Helping you. Letting you go. But you… you just came back. Willingly.”

Seeing now too-thin, too-pale arms snake around her waist and hug her tightly wasn’t a comfort. Cold face of the monster she’d made pressed into the side of her arched over, protruding spine.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“It’s not. Look at me, Moira, what do you think happened to me out there?”

Sighing, Moira let herself put her hands over Angela’s affectionately, “Tell me then.”

“When you told me to leave, I flew right back to Watchpoint Gibraltar. The closest one I knew of, conveniently the one everyone’s at. At first, I was glad it was that one. So easy, I wouldn’t have to call someone to pick me up or anything. But… when I found someone… it was Jack. He grabbed me, hauled me away, crumpled my wings. They kept me prisoner.”

“I don’t imagine my handiwork helped…”

“Moira, they weren't going to let me go no matter what,” Angela shook her her, “My appearance didn’t help but nothing would have helped. They believed I was the next Widowmaker. Either way, I was staying in captivity. Too dangerous, Jack said. They ran tests but there’s just… things you cannot test for.”

Moira’s reflection was still conflicted, “But…”

“The second Talon took me, I was lost to Overwatch.”

Grip on Angela’s hand tightening, Moira closed her eyes, “But…”

“Even though they were the ones that took me, I’m… I’m happy here. It sounds crazy and maybe it is but I’m alright with that. I’m alright with being here. It’s not just you, it’s where I belong now. Just an added benefit that you’re here. With me.”

Struggling against the smile cracking across her face, Moira failed. Letting Angela turn her around and hang onto her hands, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Angela replied, “Besides, surely I’m not a captive now.”

“That’s… well, that’s true. Were Akande interested in reshackling you surely he would have done it by now.”

“But he didn’t. He carried me down here to you, actually. Even gave me the cookies he’d been trying to sneak back to his own room so I wouldn’t pass out wobbling over to you.”

“You scared me then, you know,” Moira laughed, “Between your spectrally white self hanging onto me and Sombra yelling about ghosts… well, what else would I think but ‘all science has been proven wrong and clearly I’m being assaulted by a spirit?””

“Why were Sombra and Widowmaker in here anyways?”

“You think I could have gotten rid of them?”

Giggling, Angela took the calm as an excuse to hug Moira again, this time free to enjoy a faceful of A-cups, “So they’ve been hounding you since I left?”

Running a hand through practically white hair, Moira grinned, “As if I’d suffered a break up. Absolute refusal to leave, hell, if they needed to get something just one of them would go so the other could let them back in. Devious. Clever. Signatures of the both of them.”

“So… if I’m becoming a proper member like the rest of you… will I get my own room?”

“What, is sharing mine not good enough for you now?”

“Don’t you want two rooms we can alternate? Build it next door, it’ll be like we have a little house.”

“Oh ho ho, trying to move up in the world are we?”

“Very much so. If I’m here, should I not have ambitions?”

“Are we to fight over head of the science wing?”

“Surely not, simply with you head of research and me head of medical. We’ve always had our specialties and you’re always in your personal lab. I’d simply spend a bit more time in the actual hospital wing. Just across the hall.”

“You’ll miss me too much,” Moira smirked, rubbing the back of Angela’s head as she nuzzled into her chest.

Angela patted her arm, “I’ll live. Besides… I imagine you’ll still have me for a while.”

“How so?”

“Clearly I need time to recoup,” Angela finally peeled away from her, dragging her towards the bed with a leery grin, “Surely Akande isn’t going to expect me to be in top form yet. Plenty of time to spend alone while I get my weight back up…”

“A couple weeks at least…” Moira let herself drift along after her girlfriend.

“Oh at the very least,” Angela felt the bed press up against the bed, easily pushed onto it as Moira pinned her tightly against it. Naturally bony hands latching onto Angela’s newly thinned wrists, “It’ll take a while to get you better. Need to get your weight up, make sure your vitals are normal, perhaps some... exercise…”

Giggling from underneath her, Angela leaned her head back to accommodate an affectionate bite on her neck, “Exercise? Never, you know I hate exercise!”

“Angela…” Moira’s answer was exasperated, “Please, think of the implications.”

For a second Angela looked confused before the switch flipped in her head, “Oh!”

“Well, I certainly hope it’s an ‘oh’.”

“Oh, it will be.”

\- - -

The next week of Angela’s life was very, very easily the most hedonistic time of her life.

Dionysus himself would be proud.

Not one to take vacations, she allowed herself this one time to truly relax. Nothing but long lazy days, curled up happily in a newly monogrammed robe. So perfectly soft, a welcome back gift from Gabriel.

Food absolutely on demand, the woman no doubt now the scourge of the Talon kitchen crew. Nothing but the most decadent of foods. Usually health conscious, Angela decided to indulge herself, happily gorging on the fattiest and greasiest of foods. Normally it would be alarming to see the scale jump up that much, that fast but she’d dropped so much weight… an odd comfort.

And, a bit more scandalous, spending quite a bit of, shall we say, quality time with Moira. Thankfully left almost entirely alone by everyone else aside from food delivery. Resting together in between, curled up naked, lazily watching some science documentaries.

More depressingly, Angela revealing some more details from her time in captivity by Overwatch.

As much as Angela insisted that her coming back wasn’t due to Moira she couldn’t help but feel responsible anyways. Had she not experimented on Angela…

Well, she’d been forced to but still.

But deep down, more than the guilt could reach, Moira was just happy that Angela was back.

All good things must come to an end though, clearly Talon isn’t going to let their two top scientists rest on their laurels forever. As the days ticked by, Angela’s form filled back out to a healthy normal. Nothing Overwatch having done to her being permanent, no damage done.

Despite the fact most people would anguish over their vacation ending, however, Moira and Angela were happy to get back to work. Neither of them one to spend their days laying around doing nothing, their busy minds needing something to occupy them.

The message sent down from Akande was a bit unnerving though, a peek into a new future they weren’t sure of.

A meeting, tonight. A big announcement.

Feeling good at being able to wear her fitted clothes, Angela aired her concerns as she looked over her shoulder at Moira, “What do you think he’s going to announce tonight?”

“Well, most likely I feel it’ll be something about your return. Akande’s kept your return quiet to allow you a peaceful recovery. Outside of him, Gabriel, Sombra and Widowmaker… well I know there’s been whisperings but not much else.”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t think it will be anything bad.”

“Are you sure?”

“I cannot claim to be psychic but… I would be deeply surprised if it was anything bad.”

Moira didn’t even stop tying her tie as she felt Angela crash into her back, wrapping her arms tightly around her thin waist, “It’ll just be my official induction into Talon, won’t it?”

“You know, escape isn’t nearly the obstacle it was before…”

Angela’s head rubbed against her back as she shook her head, “No, this is where I want to be… I’m simply… nervous…”

“Not used to walking on the wrong side of the law?”

“I just cannot say I agree with Talon’s stances all the time…”

Still casually flipping her orangey hair back, Moira laughed, “You can agree with them at all? If so, you’ve clearly changed from the little goody two shoes I knew back then…”

“When you’ve gone through so much, what can you do but change?”

“And with change, what can you do but embrace it?”

“Exactly,” Angela grinned, doing just that as she hugged Moira tighter.

\- - -

Corporate casual, always a fashion that Angela found herself at home in. Sensible heels clicking on tile, a creamy yellow suit jacket, a tight pencil skirt. Whenever not in practical scrubs, this is exactly how she felt she should look.

Looking up at Moira, whose arm she was hanging off, she looked much more severe but no less at home. Her suit much fancier though, a woman that’s never known moderation.

A trait Angela always admired.

All previous times they’d been walking into a Talon meeting had been fearful but this one felt…

Jubilant.

Doors being opened by a couple of lackeys, Angela found herself looking at the pantheon of the Talon higher ups. This time, as a free woman choosing this. Nodding at the demure glance from Widowmaker and the frantic waving from Sombra. Walking all along the length of the table, just past Gabriel doing his best to remain stoic before sitting next to Akande as he gestured for her to do so.

“You’re looking much better,” the massive hand patted hers as Akande lowered his voice to greet her, “A skeleton no more.”

“Thank you,” Angela grinned, “I’m FEELING much better.”

“Good, good,” he replied before pulling back his hand and looking out at the small congregation with a winning grin, “And I’m glad to see everyone here, haven’t seen you all together since the last time I unveiled Miss Ziegler to everyone the first time. As happy as I was back then today is an even bigger celebration. I’m sure you all have heard of Miss Ziegler’s… recent departure.”

Pausing for effect, he let the tidal waves of curious rumblings went over the crowd.

“Well, I’m also just as sure you’ve all heard of her return, of her own volition,” Akande beamed, “Or her sitting here must be quite the shock to you and, perhaps, you should reach out to your coworkers a bit more.”

A roll of polite laughter, cut in half by Sombra’s being both too loud and too genuine.

“Now this next part is a bit of a surprise, a bit expected, about Miss Ziegler’s promotion in light of her actions. I see no reason to not trust her, returning to us without provocation. A valuable asset, one that’s proven herself to us and I don’t doubt will continue to do so going forward.”

Another pause, paired a glance. Understanding it perfect, Angela nodded in response to a positive chorus of whispers.

“It’ll be a while but I’d like to chart our course going forward,” Akande gestured up at a screen behind him, lighting up with a maps of Watchpoints and images of Overwatch agents, “I believe we can all agree that Overwatch’s reformation is a major obstacle for us. Someone capable of coming up against us, potentially stopping us altogether.”

All eyes zipped to Angela, smile growing a bit tense as she listened. Wary of what Akande’s next words would be.

“In light of their treatment of An-... Miss Ziegler as well as their connections to her… we will be going for a slightly less… fatal approach. A focus on property damage, crippling them financially, and a subfocus on potential acquisitions, same as Miss Ziegler herself.”

Relaxing into her seat, Angela let herself exhale. That was more than alright by her. It’s been extensively proven to her that Overwatch’s power will only be abused.

Bony hands threaded through her, Moira examining Angela’s face to only find a smile.

Her promise to Fareeha entirely forgotten.


	15. Coming Home To Roost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: A short epilogue will be posted within a minute or two of this chapter along with the end notes for the fic in general. To get the very vital end of this fic make sure to read that as well!
> 
> I'll place a note on the epilogue as well so that nobody misses the actual final chapter.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Moira asked, latching the bracers tightly around her wrists, “You know there’s no turning back after this.”

Stretching out her wings, freshly reattached after her new Talon armor was latched on. Shiny and white, black and red accents. She’d perched lightly over Gabriel’s shoulder as he designed it, eager to have some input this time around. It felt familiar, so familiar.

She remembered back to their Overwatch days, happily suggesting changes to her uniform to the exact same man. Same as it ever was. Same as it will ever be.

“I’m certain,” Angela said, pulling her hair back tightly into a ponytail, “I’ve made my choice long ago. Now it’s just come time to confirm it.”

A long finger pushed her chin over and up, to look up at her, “Surely you must be nervous, though.”

“You just want to comfort me,” Angela beamed up at her, “Want to be the big, tough protector, do you?”

“Perhaps,” Moira chuckled, “But I’m also not the sort to not check up on my girlfriend during what should be a trying time. Maybe you’re the one too preoccupied with being big and tough. Or, more realistically, small and tough.”

“I am an average height woman!” Angela protested, “You’re simply too tall.”

“I think I’m just the right height,” Moira bent sharply at the waist, planting a kiss on Angela’s lips before standing up straight again, “You’re simply too short.”

Grabbing at the tubes wrapping around Moira’s neck, Angela unsuccessfully tried to get up on her tiptoes to return the favor and failed in equal measure to drag Moira down to her level. Sighing, she gave up and dropped back on her heels, “Maybe I’m too short.”

“Somehow I’ll find it in my heart to look past that,” Moira grabbed Angela’s jawline with a grin before giving her one more kiss, “We mustn’t keep the others waiting though, we’ll have to figure that out later.”

“Playing hooky not an option?” Angela laughed, “Surely they wouldn’t even miss us.”

“And exactly where did that ‘I’m ready for this’ attitude go?”

“It got a bit sidetracked by the idea of stripping back down and crawling into bed.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Moira pushed back one of the ghostly white blonde wisps away from Angela’s face,” But I’m quite certain that everyone else would notice that they’re down, not one, but two medics.”

“Shame we’re so important.”

“Perhaps if everything goes well, we can divert a bit afterwards. Stop by my home in Ireland again, a bit more free this time. The German Watchpoint isn’t too far away on a global scale and I can’t imagine we’ll have much trouble with destroying their facilities. Not many people will be there, mostly just builders and architects.”

“A simple task, hopefully. Nobody big should be there so not much to threaten us.”

“Hence the small crew,” Moira replied, gesturing for Angela to follow her out of their room, out of the lab, “Just you, me, Sombra and some small time agents. Don’t even really need both of us, Akande just figured you’d like me there.”

“I would. I’d like you there in most circumstances and situations.”

“Trying to force me to blush are you? Despite my pallor, you’ll find it’s quite hard to do so.”

“I’m sure I’ll figure out how to eventually,” Angela beamed, reaching out to interlace her fingers with Moira’s.

Squeezing back, Moira’s eyes crinkled up at a rare, wide smile, “I’m sure you will.”

Tucking her wings in tight to squeeze out through the doors, Angela trailed behind Moira making more small talk about the mission as they made their way up and up to the hidden hangar. Being accosted suddenly by Sombra, making Angela jump as her other hand was grabbed and swung wildly as the invisible figure materialized next to them.

“You guys lookin’ forward to this? I’m lookin’ forward to this,” Sombra nearly skipped next to them, ignoring Angela’s attempts to pull her hand away, “I’ve got a good feeling about this one, gonna be a wild ride.”

Not looking to debate with Sombra, both Moira and Angela wondered how it could be. Such an easy target, not much to do.

But why not let the woman have a harmless bubble of excitement?

\- - -

Arriving, they found the Watchpoint as it should be. Nearly empty but for the manual laborers, what few Overwatch had been able to recruit, trying to rebuild from the ruins. Tucked far away in the forest, not far from Eichenwald and very similar in build. Just a small village, abandoned, then repurposed. A previous project of Reinhardt’s making, before everything fell apart.

Some part of Angela felt like she should feel guilty about tearing it back down again whilst it was still in stumbling reemergence but she didn’t.

The plane circled the location only once before hovering low enough for the occupants to drop down to the ground.

Snapping into that focused state Sombra only could when juicy data was on the table, she brought up a glowing purple map for her to drag a long-nailed finger over, “Alright then, you guys are gonna be making a distraction out front while I I get in there and download all their information.”

“I take it you’ve got a signal in mind?” Moira asked, ready for whatever dramatics the woman had up her sleeve.

“Oh of course, something that’s a bit of a classic though. Gotta have a signature don’t I? Gonna leap out the window with an EMP.”

“Screaming whatever it is you do?”

“It’s ‘turning off the lights’, if you must know,” Sombra tapped the communication device in her ear, “But it sounds way cooler in Spanish. All dramatic and shit.”

“I’ll concede that,” Moira pointed at the map, “And the plan then?”

“Well, that’ll destroy their electronics entirely so it’s just up to these thugs to smash up the rest of their shit. Basically run in, grab anything that looks expensive, then just throw it at the wall as hard as you can! And, you know, you two just make sure they don’t die while they do that.”

“A difficult task,” Moira dryly joked to the small wave of laughter from the armored men and women behind them, “Shall we get to it then?”

With a nod, a wink, and a finger to the lips, Sombra washed over in bright purple before disappearing.

“Well, let’s get to it then,” Moira bent back up, realizing she’d hunkered down a bit to be a bit closer to eye level on Sombra. A gesture of a long finger having the others chase after her, unflinching as she watched Angela run past and take off.

Scouting ahead, she spoke to the crew down below. No threats, plenty of things to destroy.

As the Talon forces burst into the main courtyard things kicked off. The unsuspecting Overwatch forces instantly reacted, mostly scattering to the winds as things began to be destroyed. Gunshots and melee weapons breaking down the half-built devices and crates piled outside.

All the while they just waited for Sombra’s signal.

But it seemed to not be coming.

Angela and Moira found themselves catching each other’s eyes as they watched and waited.

But instead of Sombra bursting from the windows, triumphantly yelling they found a different person taking to the skies. Much higher too. Not merely a leap from a window but soaring higher and higher.

On level with Angela.

Initially frozen, her own shocked gasp let her maneuver out of the way just in time as the bright, shining, blue figure missed her narrowly.

Gripping her small pistol with fear, Angela instantly knew that they had fucked up.

Of course architects were here… why wouldn’t Overwatch send their newest acquisition? Was Satya Vaswani not their best architect on hand? And who would come with her but her new girlfriend? Rocket launcher glistening in her hand as she turned around to dive at Angela again.

Knowing she had broken her promise, Angela felt for the first time felt the fear of being the enemy of Fareeha Amari.

With a shriek she dodged as a rocket flew at her, only able to make her miss by a millimeter. While Angela may have more maneuverability in the sky from her next to organic wings she was much less experienced in aerial combat than her former friend.

She heard her name yelled from below, Moira urging her to land or find cover but quickly found herself similarly engaged in combat. Satya herself appearing to accost her, coming out from the building flanked by a couple Overwatch bodyguards.

“How could you?!” Fareeha cried. Hovering above her, silhouetted sharply against the sun above, Angela felt rather weak in comparison. Suddenly acutely aware of how much flimsier her armor was, how much smaller her gun was. Her flapping wings bobbing her up and down as Fareeha yelled down at her, “I trusted you, Angela! When you got out… nobody could prove it was me but I’ve been dealing with the fallout ever since! And I thought I’d done the right thing, I really did but now you’re here and doing exactly what you promised me you wouldn’t!”

“I had no-”

Angela’s lie died on her tongue, looking down below at Moira easily dodging Satya below, “I wanted to be with Moira.”

“Was it worth it?” Fareeha hissed, “I knew you’d go back for her but I thought you’d at least have the decency to work behind the scenes! Or even better, convince Moira to leave Talon! But here you are, not even a month later, leading the charge on a vulnerable Watchpoint!!”

“Fareeha, I just-”

“Thought no one would be here to stop you!”

It was true. Angela had had perfect confidence in this Watchpoint being nothing but people who couldn't do a damned thing about the invasion. But now she found herself facing one of the highest ranking and most capable members of Overwatch. Hovering, waiting for an answer, as excuse anything.

Even from the distance, Angela could see there were years in Fareeha's eyes.

Her head jerked up at Angela spoke, “I’m sorry.”

“Did you always intend to do this? Even as we spoke?”

A long silence, punctuated by the flapping of wings and the fire of the jetpack.

“Yes,” Angela nodded, “I did. Maybe not in the moment, not in the front of my mind. But I knew I was lying.”

Another long silence befell them, both looking down below at the fight raging beneath them. Moira and Satya were separated now, pushed apart by the Talon agents engaging the Overwatch ones. Satya preoccupied with one of the brutes but Moira was looking directly up, equal parts enraged and concerned, but either way unable to take to the skies to help in any way.

But Fareeha didn’t contemplate this for too long. Watching her face melt from confused and upset to a steely resolve was terrifying.

“I hate that you’re making me do this, Angela.”

The burst from the rocket launcher was deafening. A clumsy dodge from Angela kept her alive but flailing, nearly falling from the sky if not for the last second roll that let her stay in the air. Just barely, uncomfortably close to the ground and trying to soar higher.

Weaving between the buildings, Angela shrieked at the stone burst to her left and right.

Twisting backwards at a long alleyway, she pulled out her pistol and took a few shots at her pursuer.

The Raptora suit was more than ample, the shots ricocheting off of her and leaving small blackened holes in the rocky walls and cobblestone below.

Seeing that any retaliation was useless and she was losing altitude, Angela twisted around just in time. Zipping close to the ground, too close, before bursting out on the other side of the alleyway.

High above the crowds again, Angela found Fareeha a little less eager to shoot.

If Angela could get by a fully civilian area…

Looking up she could see the modern German city in the distance. Bingo.

Grinning, she knew she just had to pick up Moira first. Easy to spot in the crowd, tall stature only highlighted by her bright orange hair in a crowd of black and red v. white and blue. Still watching her until 

Good, because she probably shouldn’t do what she’s about to do without her girlfriend knowing.

Fareeha bearing down on her averted as she took a sudden and sharp plunge, not something her pursuer could afford to do in the much heavier armor.

Or at least, that’s what Angela thought.

Instead she watched in shocked horror as Fareeha abruptly cut the power on the jets, crashing to Earth and landing in a staunch hero pose mere feet from Moira. Narrowly avoiding a couple terrified agents who moved just in time to make way.

Angela’s snatching of Moira was cut short as an armored hand clamped tightly around a shocked Moira’s wrist. Her attempt to jerk away was weak in comparison, a scientist not exactly built to take on a soldier, but enraged nonetheless, “Unhand me!”

Yelling up to Angela, having had to fly up again above the crowd, Fareeha held up Moira’s arm as she tried to tear herself away to freedom, “Last chance, Angela! Come quietly! The hacker girl is already being carted away, I have Moira, and there’s more support on the way. You’ve already escalated this beyond repair but we don’t have to escalate it to violence any more!”

“Just fly away, Angela,” Moira tried to tug away again, “Me and Sombra will-”

“Get down here!” Fareeha yelled up, “Let’s end this!”

Paused in midair aside from the flapping wings, Angela looked panickedly back and forth between the resolute Fareeha and the defiant Moira. Unsure of what to do.

But a third option glinted in the near distance and it was the one Angela took.

To Fareeha’s confusion she watched Angela twist and dive again, deeper into the crowd. Completely unsure of what she was doing until the scream tore through the crowd as Satya was ripped up into the air.

“SATYA!” Fareeha yelled, instantly forgetting everything else as she let go of Moira and burst off after Angela as she twisted higher into the air with her prey.

Up and up, until she paused. Satya screaming as Angela let go of her and split off, letting herself fall backwards into a freefall. Fareeha ignoring the woman going into a tight flip and chasing down at the crowd again. Flying past the ghostly spectre of her former friend to catch her screaming girlfriend safely in her arms, Satya gripping ironclad onto the edge of the armor, golden eyes wild and looking at the ground like it still wanted to swallow her up.

Not even having time to comfort her, Fareeha turned just in time to watch a clawed hand burst up from the crowd to be snatched up by Angela. In one last ditch effort she shot a final rocket into the area, populated by Talon members, a scream from Moira loud enough to hear over the crowd.

Narrowing her eyes, Fareeha ducked down just long enough to put Satya down somewhere safe, “I’m sorry, I have to… I have to go…”

“Go, catch them,” Satya insisted, shaking hands pushing her girlfriend, “I will be fine, I’m going in by the labs. Catch them, Fareeha. You’ll damage Talon so much if you catch them, both their medics.”

Nodding, Fareeha took off in the direction she’d seen the other two women go.

\- - -

Panting, Angela hadn’t done such aerobics in her natural life and now carrying Moira it wasn’t helping. Distressed to find the woman weakened, unsure of what the damage was in her bloodied side other than visibly seeing shrapnel sticking out.

“Land, dear,” Moira gasped, tightly holding onto her side, “You’ll do neither of us any good if you crash.”

“I have to… get out of the town…”

“We’re in the ruins of the outskirts, I think you can afford to hide out here. Besides, perhaps, we should take a look at the damage.”

Looking down at the blood staining Moira’s hands, Angela reluctantly nodded. Descending carefully until they stood on the ruined, abandoned street, surrounded by the derelict cottage-like buildings. Dragging Moira’s stumbling inside, helping her into one of the abandoned chairs.

Aware of her own damage, Moira inquired of Angela’s, “Are you alright? Did she hit you with anything?”

“No, I avoided all her shots and the shrapnel. Just… just tired. Stressed. My heart is going a million miles a minute. I don’t think I’d ever been this scared in my life, Fareeha staring me down like that..

“You’ve made a powerful and very personal enemy,” Moira sighed heavily, tilting her head back, “Are you ready to deal with that going forward?”

“I knew this would happen but just… not like this,” Angela replied before shaking her head, “What are we talking about? Your wound…”

Reluctantly, Moira pulled her hand away to reveal a much deeper wound than anticipated. Bleeding held back only by the pressure, hissing and pressing it tightly again.

Panicking, Angela patted herself for medical supplies she didn’t have, “Oh Moira, no, no, it’s- are you- do you think it hit any major organs? The angle is… do you have any tools on you?!”

“No and no,” Moira winced, resisting Angela pulling at her hand again in a panic, “It stings but surely it’s not that bad.”

“Have you looked at it? It is!” Angela fretted, “I can’t… the city is near but I don’t think I can or should move you that far… I’ll try to call the rest of our squad, if those agents can come and pick us up we should be fine.”

Tapping the headset against her ear, Angela spoke into it, “Hello? Is anyone out th-”

A sharp spike of static made her jump and pluck the offending device from her ear, letting it skitter across the splintered wooden floor. Emitting horrible noises for a few more seconds until finally sputtering out into a dead silence.

For a second they were quiet, staring it down, Moira putting an arm around Angela to pull her close against her unbloodied side. The darkened building was fairly small, just a handful of tables with chairs still waiting for patrons to sit littered around them. Everything greying and ripped.

“Moira… what… what should I do, I’m scared,” Angela sounded smaller and smaller with each word.

Reaching up and pulling her down, Moira gave her a soft kiss, murmuring as she was close, “It will be fine, perhaps if we-”

Before Moira could finish that thought they jumped at the door suddenly bursting open. Bright blue armor glinting from the sunlight behind her, weapon still in hand. Even with her face obscured, Angela could tell she was or had been crying, thin streaks of black eyeliner down her face.

Suddenly they were acutely aware of there only being one exit to this place.

“Fareeha, don’t!” Angela cried as the barrel of the launcher was aimed at them, her pistol out and pointed firmly at her former friend’s face.

Her hand shaking, the clink of the metal gloves on the weapon, Fareeha shook her head, “I don’t want to. I really don’t. You’re giving me no choice, even now pointing that at me... I’m… I’m sorry, Angela.”

The sound of the rocket launching in such a small but open space was deafening. Flung roughly against another table, Angela’s ears were ringing as she fell forward. Looking past the splintered wood floor to see Moira, unable to see her face but she was unmoving. A large splatter of blood trailed after her, continually growing.

“Moira…” Angela muttered, trying and failing to push herself to her knees. Collapsed, looking up, she saw Fareeha one more time, helmet off and frantically wiping tears from her eyes in between her shaking hands reloading the launcher.

Turning towards Angela again, finger on the trigger, Fareeha gasped out one final, “Goodbye, Angela.”

Click. Boom. Silence.

Walking out alone, Fareeha took off her helmet as the remains of the building crumbled behind her. Now openly sobbing as she collapsed to her knees on the worn road, her own crying sounds echoing back at her.

Shaking, she got back to her feet.

Satya. She had to check on Satya.


	16. Epilogue: My Hero Will Never Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: This is just the epilogue that was posted along with the final chapter! Please make sure to read the chapter before this or the whole thing will be quite a confusing jump!

Dead silence filled the lab. Something Angela had found is that without Moira fretting about she rather preferred having most of the lights turned out. Her unnatural eyes enjoyed the darkness, drowning out the blue irises into two dark, bottomless pools.

Only one area was well lit, large operating light beaming over a white cloth pulled all the way over the tall, thin figure.

The whole room ice cold, can’t have it any other way. Can’t have her rot, can we?

Mumbling to herself, Angela arranged the metal tools with soft clinks, “So much damage done… You really took the brunt of that blast didn’t you? Your modifications to me though…”

Stopping, she rubbed her own skin already healed over. Pulling out the shrapnel hadn’t been fun but after that ordeal was done, it was a short time before it was back to normal.

“I have your notes,” Angela patted them, “Plenty of my own too. Mixing them together, I have quite the plan for you. A touch of what you’ve done for me, just make you a bit more durable. Modifying what you did for Gabriel, can’t have you so easy to grab, can we? The last bit though, something purely my own…”

Running her hand over her notes, drawn in a golden gel pen like a teen girl. Doodles of angels and wings dotting along it. An odd contrast with the contents of the notes, ramblings of a madwoman looking to play god.

Pulling back the cover, Angela flinched slightly at the unmoving corpse of Moira. Pale as the sheet she’d just taken off her, some crimson wounds dotting her.

Leaning over, Angela gently kissed her ice cold lips.

Careful not to pull out any of the various wires pressed into different parts of Moira’s body.

“You protected me so well, Moira. Truly you’re my hero, you know that right? But now it’s my turn to protect you though, isn’t it?”

Stepping back to an odd machine, Angela messed with some settings. Adjustments. Checking and double checking herself. High stakes, not like she can do this many times. Very expensive, very hard, very dangerous to the body.

Picking up some darkened goggles, Angela put them on.

Angela let a cautiously optimistic smile cross her face as she whispering to herself as she pulled the level, “Heroes never die.”

The golden flash was blinding, leaving Angela reeling and covering her eyes even through the thick goggles. Stepping back, nearly stumbling over a wire, Angela caught herself and cautiously peeked her eyes open.

Stepping forward, she gently reached a hand out to press against Moira’s abdomen. Waiting for a rise and fall of slumbering lungs waking up again.

It wasn’t though.

Heart beating in her ears, Angela carefully leaned over to listen for the same in Moira. Pressed against her chest.

But the sudden, sharp gasp made Angela jerk back up.

Breathing heavily, Moira’s mismatched eyes were wild. Looking around frantically at a world she should never have seen again, jerked suddenly and harshly from the grip of the grim reaper.

Calming only at the ghost white hand brushing back her red hair lovingly, Angela pressing a kiss tightly against her forehead.

“Welcome back, Moira. I’ve missed you so, so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally at the end of this! This was quite a lengthy fic, my second longest ever. I tried some new things with this, especially with the action scenes which I'm trying to get better at.
> 
> I'm sure you've realized this ending is fairly open ended, especially in regards to what Fareeha, Satya and Sombra are doing.
> 
> I won't do it immediately but eventually I'd like to do a sequel/maybe quasi-midquel to this, mostly following Fareeha and Satya and the Overwatch side with Angela and Moira as the villains. I'd like to lean into the Evil Mercy even more in that with not only Overwatch's perspective but chapters that dip back into the Talon's perspective.
> 
> I'd like to take a little break and do some other stories first though before I undertake another massive Overwatch project again.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this half of the story though!! \o/

**Author's Note:**

> Madeleine may have been born in this fic but I honestly doubt I'll bring her back at any point. I'm just a sucker for making more and more Overwatch OCs.
> 
> You can see more of my stuff at my tumblr, catisacat. I also like to draw!


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